


Into Ash and Dust

by CoopPenny



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Ending, Character Death, Dark Steve, Evil Avengers, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Touching, Poor Bucky Barnes, Poor Loki, Poor Phil, Poor Tony, Portals, Post-Avengers (2012), Reed Richards is a douche, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark Still Has Arc Reactor, pre everything else, the whole thing is dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoopPenny/pseuds/CoopPenny
Summary: Some people like to say that the Avengers are the embodiment of good and that they could hardly do no wrong, even from a different universe, they’d have to be good.Some people needed to shut up because they have no idea what they’re talking about!





	1. It’s Richard’s fault

**Author's Note:**

> This story is kinda dark… Don’t judge me!!
> 
> Hope you like it!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short story just a warning. It’s dark and a little weird… Don’t judge me!! This is something I wrote down before my exams started up and hadn’t had a chance to read through and edit a few obvious things but I’ve got a week off and can put a little time into finally getting this story up.  
> (to long time readers: I will be trying to get other chapters for on-going stories up as fast as I can but my revision comes first so soz!)

Sometimes, Tony really hated his life...

Obviously, he had little to complain about in other people's views: he was a billionaire, he had a company, and he was a well known and well favoured superhero to the world. But what they continuously forgot was that he was at a high risk of getting killed almost every time he flew out to battle. Don't get him wrong, the Avengers were a good team and they were becoming good friends, much to Tony's misfortune...

At first, he had tried pushing them away, being cold and distant as well as spending as much time away from them as possible delayed their quickly forming friendship. However, it became near impossible when they moved into his Tower and he had no choice but he give them a home, protection and equipment to fight with... And he may have secretly done a few personal things for them that he observed. He found that Natasha had a hobby of ballet so he took her to see a show, and that Clint had a love for high places and so built him an extreme climbing-frame. Building Steve half a dozen indestructible punching bags was an easy enough thing to do and it would have cost more if Tony just kept on buying regular punching bags so Tony considered that a win-win for him. He felt a little sympathetic towards Thor as he was unable to get intoxicated on Midgardian alcohols so he just made his own alcoholic drink for the god (which worked) it was nothing special. Bruce was epic and Tony would have done anything for his Science Bro so making sure the kitchen was stocked with absolutely everything was no biggie on Tony’s part (he was a billionaire after all).

...Okay! So maybe he should have been more subtle with his ‘keenness' towards them but he just didn't want them dying in battle or getting seriously bored all the time (they were extremely well known so it wasn't like they could take a walk in the park in peace!).

All in all, Tony and the other Avengers were close knitted friends, even more so when Tony found Steve's long lost war buddy, James 'Bucky' Barnes and helped the war veteran with his issues along with Steve and the rest of the group.

The 'friends' thing was not his fault. At all. None whatsoever...

Okay... Maybe it was a little to blame for the predicament...

First, Tony respected them for their talents and such, as much as they respected him for his brains, but once Tony started to observe and did those things, they started to get closer to him. Tony didn't see it at first but by the end of it he could see what they were doing. Each and every one of them wormed their way into his iron shielded heart with small actions of appreciation and companionship. It became very clear when Natasha twisted a nosey and rude reporter's arm for stating that Tony had no real input to the Avengers team...

And five years later, Tony had been made the very apple of each of his teammates' eyes without even knowing it! Even Bucky considered Tony as a little brother (Cap, Nat and Buck more so than anyone else) of sort that he had to protect. But, for God's sake! He was a grown man and they treated him as if he were a child to be protected! It was sweet at times... But still damn annoying!

Anyhow, it was a normal day for the team and it seemed to be an unusually chill day for them as well; there were no alarms or sirens or any alien invasions to be heard of on that particularly sunny day. Everyone seemed to be relaxing at the Tower, watching TV, or doing workouts in the gym, or doing experiments.

Well... Everyone except Tony, that was...

Unfortunately for Tony, he had to do an assignment that was personally assigned to him by Fury (more like blackmailed into... Stupid Loki for turning him into a half human half cat that could purr and looked ridiculously cute to everyone but Tony himself...). The assignment was to make nice with some other superhero teams, which Tony wasn't really good at but apparently they needed him to work with (ugh!) _Reed Richards_...

Don't get Tony wrong, he liked Richards as much as the next guy. _But_ , he didn't appreciate the amount of recklessness the guy was willing to put into an experiment of science. Tony loved science but he always did it safely and in a secure environment while Richards was willing to cut corners and make reckless estimations without experimental trials, which Tony did _not_ appreciate.

However, due to having to 'Make Nice' under SHIELD's orders, Tony had to clam up and stop his ranting of the man's stupidity with science while they worked together.

Sue, the Invisible Woman, was a sweet heart and Tony got along with the woman swimmingly, he'd already made a coffee date with the woman (of course, after Tony said that he wasn't looking for a relationship of any kind after his messy breakup with Pepper; they were still friends but they were trying to get passed the awkward stage) and Johnny was a hoot and a half, his powers spiking Tony's curiosity and his sense of humour and wise cracks rivalling Tony's own. The Big Man, Ben, wasn't really talkative but Tony respected the man, nodding at him in greeting which the man returned when they first met. In other words, Tony got on fine with the rest of the team; except for Reed...

The man was smart, Tony will give him that but he looked and spoke to Tony like he was dump due to Tony's area of expertise being mechanics and machinery. Tony may not have known as much as Richards did about portals and soft science (also known as biology) but he had a bit of understanding. For instance, Tony understood that it was dangerous to turn on the machine that was supposed to be a portal without a secure and safe facility, which the top of the Baxter Building wasn't.

"Richards, don't you think we should take this somewhere else? Like somewhere out in the desert?" Tony asked forcefully from the computer screen (why isn't it a holo-screen?) as Reed practically danced around the machine that Tony had helped solder together, doing small (pointless) tweaks to the machine as he went.

"Yes, Stark," the man ground out, almost spitting Tony's name out like he hated it, "I know what I'm doing as it is _my_ area of science. I know all there is to know and I _know_ it is safe."

"I'm not sure--"

However, before Tony could say anything more, the man jumped at the switch, pressing it down and activating it. The air came alive with electricity, raising the hairs on the back of Tony's neck as the machine spiked. Lightening flashed out the the machine, a colour of purple swirling and forming in the middle of it, gaining more and more force as the seconds went by, a pull of gravity coming from inside it. With wide eyes, Tony ran to Richards who was barely keeping ahold of the side of his desk, feet slipping along the shiny floor with his non-grippable shoes.

Grabbing the man's waist from behind, Tony used all of his strength, that he got from lifting engines and heavy metal, to fling the man out of the danger zone, shouting for him to shut it down. However, before Tony could run himself out of danger as well, the strengthening gravity tugging at his clothes, a piece of lab equipment, not bolted down for some reason, flew at him, hitting Tony square in the chest and with enough force to knock him backwards.

Tingly electricity seemed to slide across his skin, and a sound equivalent to the electric current echoed in his ears loud enough to hurt. His body convulsed with every spike of electricity, scarred hands gripping the sides of his head in a futile attempt to shut out the painful echo as he cried out in pain and fear. It was only a second later that he landed on hard ground, the breath in his lungs being immediately driven out, no jolt of electricity could be felt and everything was deathly silent.

"For FUCK SAKES RICHARDS!!" Tony screamed, pain, fear and anger taking over as Tony pulled himself up to crouch on one knee, unsure whether or not he'd stay standing if he stood on his feet straight away, “I said it wasn’t safe!! You fucking idiot! You could have killed someone!!"

As he looked up, swaying slightly with a tint of nausea, Tony looked around the wreaked lab, tables were over turned and there was smashed glass everywhere. The place looked a mess and Tony didn’t plan to help clean up. Not one bit. He was going to march himself right out there and curse up a storm with Fury before taking off to one of his private Islands to relax from the stressing ordeal of having to deal with _Reed Richards_ , of all people…

Broken glasses and bits of loose paper dotted amongst the chaos (again, why isn’t it a holo-screen?), Tony was expecting to see, what he wasn’t expecting to see was his teammates standing only a few feet away from him and a wide eyed Richards to his side. When did they get there? And why did Richards look so scared?

Ignoring the weird vibe of the room, Tony frowned in confusion at the people in the room that weren’t there a second ago. How _did_ they get there so fast? Maybe Tony got knocked out for a minute or two? Yeah, that’s probably it. What Tony really didn’t understand was why they were all looking at him like he was a ghost.

“Tony…” the Captain breathed out, awe and disbelief filtering through.

It was at that moment that Tony noticed their change in uniform. They were all in different suits, well padded but a little bulgy for Tony’s taste and it was all black with none of the Captain’s patriotic colouring or Clint's purple bits, Natasha always wore a black cat-suit and Thor was in his usual chainmail with a lack of red cape. And, no matter what anyone said, the fact that they’d discarded the uniform that he’d spent hours making for them, did not hurt at all. Not one bit.

Smiling at his team ~~to cover his hurt feelings~~ , Tony made a gesture to the team, “Why do you guys look like emos? If you didn’t like the armour I made you, you should have just said so…” damn it. Quickly, Tony turned to a still shocked Richards and made a rude hand gesture, “And fuck you Richards! You said it was safe and you practically blew me through a wall! You just prove that Fury was wrong - like always - and that you have zero regard for safety!” he berated the younger scientist. You’d think a guy would learn about science safety after his catastrophe of an experiment in space to prove the advancement of human DNA.

After his ranting, usually one or two things happened: one would be that the team would roll their eyes, or they would just walk in the other direction, knowing that Tony was safe and unharmed if he was talking. However, the room just continued to stare at him with wide disbelieving eyes, Richards going even paler and looking a little faint. “What?” his eyes then grew comically wide as he yelled, “It didn’t give me cat ears did it?!” It wouldn’t be the first time… Damn Loki, and digitalised cameras, and _JARVIS_! “‘Cause— Wait… emo uniforms, shocked faces and a portal… I’m not in Kansas anymore, am I?” Their continued shocked expressions were answer enough… “Damn it.” He groaned softly as he rubbed his temples trying to fend off the strengthening headache. It’d taken him longer to figure that one out than it should have - he blamed Richards...

Natasha, or Other Natasha, or NotNat (whatever, he’d think of a nickname later!), seemed to snap out of it then, her round shocked eyes going to their normal lazy eyed look that made it seem like she was high, “No.” Came the flat response that held no emotion whatsoever, “In this universe your dead and the public have rejected us, deeming us too dangerous to let roam free. The world turned its back on us when we saved it multiple times… so we turned our backs on the world.”

Blinking, Tony didn’t think that he’d heard that correctly as he looked to Richards to confirm, only to receive none as the idiot was still in shock. It didn’t take him long to snap out of it, “WHAT!? Are you kidding me?! I get sent to another dimension where I’m dead and the whole team goes bad?! And you too, Thor? What happened to Jane?” Okay, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to rant to the evil Avengers team about the fact that they’re evil but he was tired and nauseous and a tad bit hysterical. He also never really had a brain to mouth filter but who cares?!

At his question to Thor, thunder clapped loudly overhead as Thor’s features seemed to darken. When he spoke, it was a chilling cold that Tony had never thought the happy thunder god was capable of, “She rejected me after the great battle of New York. She said that the city fell due to our… ruthlessness.”

“Ah, crap, sorry Point-Break,” evil or not, that must have been a cruel break up and would have been hard on even the happiest of Thors, “Sorry about your Tony as well,” he directed to the team as a whole, “But I’ve gotta jump back before anything happens at home—“

“You can’t go! We just got you back!” Came the desperate cry from Bruce, a broken and crushed look on his face when he looked at Tony. 

Tony’s smile was sad when he looked at his Science Bro, his voice was soft, “I’m sorry Brucie, I don’t belong here and god knows what’s happening with the longer I stay here: could be nothing, could be the end to all universes and dimensions of us and other worlds completely. You know how fragile this kind of thing is.”

With that, he walked to Richards to discuss what they could do to send him back and if there was a risk with him being here, missing the action of Bruce turning to Steve with pleading eyes and a slight nod from the Captain.

“We didn’t want to do this, Tony…” Steve said, his face grim as Tony looked back to him.

Tony could only take a step back before he was being jumped by Thor. It was hardly a second later, Tony putting a few useless punches and kicks to the god’s face and a few shouted curses, and Thor was behind him putting Tony in a strong full nelson that he couldn’t break out of.

“Guys, you don’t have to do this.” was all he could say before he felt a prick on the side of his neck, a numbing sensation spreading through his body. He couldn’t even throw a punch at Thor when he released Tony and started to carry him like a newly wed bride.

The last thing he heard before succumbing to the darkness was the Captain’s harsh voice giving out strict orders: “Thor, take Tony home. Bruce, Hawkeye and I will destroy the portal and data. Widow, kill Richards.”

* * *

 

 

Immediately after receiving his orders, Thor left the Baxter Building and the sounds of the blubbering scientist behind, begging for his life like the pitiful thing he is; he took off just as the desperate noises were silenced with a loud crack. He flew fast but at a slower pace than he would without the man in his arms, Thor had the capabilities to travel at neck-breaking speeds for a mere mortal and he didn’t want to risk it now.

Gently, Thor landed on the Avengers Tower’s large balcony before instantly holstering his hammer and moving his precious cargo into both of his arms. As he walked, he looked down at the sleeping face of his old friend: his hair was a fluffy brown with healthy and lightly tanned skin in the exact shade that he remembered, full eye lashes and a sharply cut goatee carefully crafted onto the man’s chin and upper lip. Antony was small and short in height, as he had always been, but the way he seemed to be dwarfed in Thor’s large arms had the god smiling a softer smile than he had in years. He was very fortunate to have his Shield Brother back, a second chance to protect him…

It had been a hard time without his good friend Antony. The Man of Iron had been intelligent, with an interest that had Thor recalling old battle stories and adventures in far off lands and different Realms, the man taking in everything he could while others would just ignore them. He knew that everyone else on the team had loved Tony for different things, whether it was for his non judgemental attitude, or his jokes and bold personality, or just the fact that he was willing to overlook their collective problems and see the best in them even when it dwindled at best.

There was a reason that they all went bad and it wasn’t only because they had been grieving for Antony in the wrong way… Thor couldn’t fathom why the Midgardian leaders would trust that they had full capacity of their minds with all their back stories and pasts, it was impossible to not be mad with what they had all experienced. The Eye of Hawk had grown up with abuse, before running away with the circus with his older brother, only to have him attempt to take Clinton’s life not two years later. Lady Natasha had grown in captivity, training to be the perfect weapon and in constant fear of being killed - Thor believed that she had never truly recovered after her womb was rendered useless. The good Doctor had the raging beast inside of him and Thor often caught the man twitching or a flash of green in his eyes, before doing something that the green beast would do; no one would be able to stay sane with a raging beast whispering in their ear of all hours and days. The Captain had been entrapped in ice for seventy years, his mind slowly deteriorating in that time and the war that he had given his life for was no help in the matter.

Thor, himself, had no pain of the mind or past. He was a Prince of Asgard and he’d been one for thousands of years, he had no idea why people had thought that a few weeks on Midgard without his powers would suddenly change many years of attitude. The only thing that he really regretted was the loss of his brother that day but that issue had been resolved after his first battle with his Midgardian comrades.

The loss of Antony - pure hearted, good, trustworthy Antony - had taken its toll on Thor, sending him into grieving at the loss of a dear friend he had no idea he’d grown so close too before it was too late. However, with the reaction of the world to Antony’s death, the civilian that had given his life to the people of the world, trying to make up for wrongs that weren’t of his own doing. The man had been shot down into the Ocean by an ambushed attack that SHIELD had sent him into with the planted information. While Lady Pepper and the team grieved, the world sneered. They had taken everything from Antony, his time, his technology, his life, and all they could do was curse him and spit on his resting grounds; they called him incompetent and a villain before synthesising with the rest of the team for having to put up with the man. Thor had never felt more rage…

He had felt so much rage that day, that he went on a killing spree. He killed all those who spoke ill of him, saying his name like he was a poison on their lips. Most were reporters and one he took great joy in silencing. A pretty lady of Midgard spoke like the acidic venom of a snake, went by the name Christine Everhart. The woman had been most vile, saying that Antony was a selfish hero and hardly deserved to be called one at all. He had savoured the fear on the maidens face, blubbering and promising not to say anything more; he’d eased her worries, placing gentle hands on her head before sneering in disgust and snapping her neck. Honestly, Thor was glad to be rid of her.

Many of his other comrades had done the same, going out of their way to kill those people and it wasn’t long before people started to catch onto what they were doing, especially when they killed a Iron Man protester on the streets in broad daylight. After that, they lost all trust and respect of the public and it wasn’t long until SHIELD and the Army were sent to contain them. However, after they killed a hundred-thousand odd men and women, they were declared defeated and it wasn’t long before they took over America, it had barely taken a month. It took another year to get the whole world to their knees alongside the land of America. And, just like that, they were ruling the world.

Having everything they could ever want or need, they looked after the people with strict rules and harsh punishments. They were feared and powerful but despite this, they all knew that they were missing a certain sarcastic genius.

At that thought, Thor couldn’t stop himself from tightening his hold on Antony for a fraction of a second, feeling his chest bloom with joy as he held the small man in his arms once again.

Walking down the halls, Thor went up a few levels to where the most protected and secure rooms were orientated so that nothing could easily get in or out. The building was quiet, the hum of life and the presence of another being nowhere to be felt in the building anymore. Thor felt his heart sink a little bit at the thought of having to tell Antony that his creation had passed on.

It had happened a year after Antony’s death. JARVIS had been in grieving, not saying a lot and the emotion that underlaid in his speech was gone and he refused to let anyone into Antony’s personal labs or pent house. Over time, JARVIS started to miss his replies, staying silent for hours at a time before speaking up about a question asked hours ago. The computer seemed to be missing memories and he ended up forgetting important facts sometimes such as the Avengers team living in the Tower. JARVIS would suddenly talk, relying to a question that no one had asked but it was clear that the answer wasn’t for them when a ‘sir’ was added on the end of it. The AI was deteriorating, his memory banks falling apart in Antony’s death and everyone knew that the AI was slowly dying. JARVIS’ control seemed to have gotten so bad that at one point he ended up showing videos all over the Avengers’ floors of different periods of Antony’s life, such as: the man’s parents deaths, making of the suit, Obadiah looking out for Antony, Obadiah attempting to kill Antony, Howard’s treatment of young Antony. They saw his highs and lows, his joy and pain, and it only made loosing Antony more difficult.

Soon, JARVIS went silent completely. Their protection wasn’t as well off without the AI watching over them but they managed to set up their own defences and such on their own.

Sighing, Thor walked into one of the safest rooms of the Tower and plopped a still unconscious Antony on the bed covers. The genius looked small on the giant white sheets of the bed and it only made Thor aware of how dirty Tony was and that there was a dark bruise forming on his chin and cheek; it looked as if he’d been in a fight. Sighing once more, Thor slide his large hands over his chest and ribs, making sure that the reactor was working and that none of his ribs were broken in his accident, he was relived when he found none.

With one last stroke of Tony’s thick hair, sweeping the soft strands from the man’s face, he got to work of getting Antony comfortable. He removed the man’s shoes and socks as well as his slightly burnt shirt before tucking the mortal into bed.

However, before he left and locked the room, Thor secured the man’s wrists and ankles to the corners of the king-seized bed with steel reinforced, adjustable shackles (they had been created with the help of Thor’s magic, making it so the steel cuffs would enlarge and tighten without any weak points), his body pulled taunt under the thick coverers. They loved Tony but they weren’t stupid enough to let him roam free and possibly get his hands on the many cameras around the room (they knew all about Afghanistan).

With one last check on the cuffs, Thor stoked a thumb over the missed genius’ cheek, the digit ghosting over the dark bruise that had settled there. Silently, Thor promised that he would not loose his friend again, he refused to let it happen...

* * *

 

 

“I don’t think this is really necessary…” Tony suggested, squirming in his seat as he tried to give anyone that would look his way his best puppy-dog eyes.

In all honesty, Tony didn’t really think it was necessary to drug him in the first place, let alone _chain_ him to the _fucking bed_ (he hadn’t been able to move a single _inch!_ ). Although, they knew what he could do with tech so maybe that was them being smart… 

Okay, so maybe _that_ was necessary but _this_ certainly wasn’t!

At the moment, he was sat upright on a kitchen stool that had been securely bolted to the floor. His ankles were shackled to the pole, the small slack of chain clicking quietly with every movement. His hands were another matter as they were forced into a pair of built in cuffs that forced his shoulders back in an uncomfortable way.

Bound and secure as he was, he was at the table having breakfast with the Team of Dictators, making nice, smiling and joking like normal, as if he wasn’t tied to a chair with Barton feeding him small chunks of fruit and pancake. More often than not, the douche would make little airplane noises as he fed the genius, a joyful spark in his eyes and a smirk playing on his lips.

The man snorted, his smile incredulous as he met his puppy-dog eyes head on, “Nice try Shell-head. Now, open up.”

They really were going all out in the precaution area; on the trip from his ‘room’ to the kitchen, Tony had his hands shackled behind his back and Thor lug him over the his muscular shoulder on his way down. Even when they were fixing him to the chair, they had Steve do his arms and Clint do his legs at the same time, while Natasha had been staring him down, daring him to try and struggle against the two very-much-more-stronger-than-him men.

“Birdbrain…” Tony mumbled quietly to himself as he let Clint feed him. From the corner of his eye, Tony could see the smirks from the others and the prideful gleam in Clint’s eyes.

Oh, _God_ … They’d never let him get away…

 

 


	2. You can’t run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for this! I know this must be the latest update in the history of updates but I’ve been busy with life and I couldn’t get myself to find the will to carry on writing this for a while. I kind of fell into a writer’s depression or ‘Writer’s Block’ as it’s more commonly known as. With college added on top of that, everything was manic for a bit.
> 
> BUT I’ve finally updated this and it will be carried on!!

It felt like forever…

Tony can barely remember exactly how long he’d been in this alternate universe with these dark Avengers but he was starting to feel desperate. Hopeless… Just the beginnings of feeling hopeless sent Tony into desperation, not wanting to this nightmarish situation get the best of him. Though, he knew it was a loosing battle because he could feel himself loosing his hope, bit by bit, everyday.

At the moment, Tony was fairly sure that none of the dark Avengers has figured this out yet, which was a good thing in his eyes.

It had been over a month in constant chains until he was chain-free for more than five minutes. In the month, Tony felt himself getting slowly more and more agitated. The clink of chains followed him everywhere he went, to the kitchen, to the bedroom and even on the bathroom! Every step was ‘clink’, ‘clink’, ‘clink’, ‘clink’, every damn second of the day. If he wasn’t in the lengthened chains that allowed him comfort, he was pinned down to a surface like his kitchen stool or his spot on the sofa, his arms spread along the back, legs fastened to the cushions and a thick leather collar to keep his head back when needed.

Every movement and decision was out of his control and it had been on the brink of driving him mad. But, eventually, the cuffs came off more and more everyday. They started to let him walk with his hands free, started to allow him sleep without his legs spread on the mattress. It was now around three or four months into his imprisonment (he wasn’t sure of the length of time and he chose not to think too much about that) that they finally allowed him to sit and sleep chain-free.

However, with every passing day, it became harder and harder to separate his team back home from the corrupt team he was trapped with. Their personalities were similar and they had the same habits as their counterparts did at home. It was on one occasion that Tony caught Barton trying to manipulate him into thinking that he’d been with them for years, that he’d never been in a different dimension, but he’d stopped trying to convince Tony when all he gave the archer was a suspicious and unbelieving look. At the time, the archer just smirked and said that it was ‘worth and try’. What worried Tony the most was that he caught the lie and manipulation _that_ time, but he knew that they would keep trying, keep trying to make him believe that this was his home all along, that he belonged there. He knew that if he grew desperate enough, he would start to believe it and that’s what scared him the most out of everything that could possibly happen to him…

Naturally, Tony was working on an escape plan but it was extremely hard when he had to be so careful. The careful factor of his planning was made one of his top priorities when he witnessed something on the second or third week into his imprisonment— something completely disgusting and unforgiving…

At the time, the dark Avengers and Tony were in the living room watching a movie, well-accustomned restraints keeping him in place on the sofa. Tony honestly hadn’t been paying attention to, his mind set on numerous risky escape plans that he was either putting on the back-burner or tossing aside, when a young man walked in. It wasn’t even a ‘man’ per say, he looked like a kid at the age of sixteen, nervous and shaking as he came up to the dark Avengers, eyes shifty and beginning to sweat. What was really the clincher for his age was when the boy asked to speak with Rogers, his voice breaking as he spoke.

The movie was put on pause and Rogers had gotten up to talk to the kid but he wasn’t the smiling and easy going Rogers that Tony had been forced to endure for the last couple of weeks and in that moment, Tony felt true fear for the boy. As Rogers got closer, form towering over the kid who had gone very pale, Tony opened his mouth to speak up and try to distract the super soldier when Rogers lashed out. The action was so quick that Tony barely saw it happen. The punch landing on the kids face was hard and unforgiving, sending the kid back into the wall with a hard ‘thunk!’. But it wasn’t over as, after the first hit, came another and another, each hit even more brutal than the last, cutting the kids face and happening so fast that he was barely able to cry out in pain.

At the third punch, the kid went down and Rogers resulted to kicking him. The others did nothing but smirk or laugh, giving words of encouragement to Steve to ‘teach the kid a lesson’. Tony was so mortified that he was barely able to speak but when the kid went down, Tony snapped out of it and started to struggle, thrashing in his bonds in a desperate attempt to try and escape and help the kid.

“Stop! Stop it!! He didn’t do anything wrong!” Tony screamed, tears threatening to spill at what he so desperately wanted to stop.

The others did nothing until they noticed that Tony was thrashing about too much, yanking on his metal bonds and cutting the area around his wrists, droplets of blood staining the material below him. By that time Rogers had stopped kicking the teen but Tony saw that the kid wasn’t moving, not even breathing. At this realisation, Tony started to struggle anew, wanting so much to hit Rogers in his perfect fucking teeth, wanting to avenge the kid’s death that was, by all accounts, unnecessary. However, it wasn’t long until Barton was behind him and putting his head in a strong headlock, making it hard to breath with the added pressure to his windpipe and the heavy breathing of his struggles.

Panting and every other second or so, trying in vain to shake off Barton’s hold, Tony was kept perfectly still as Steve came closer to him, close enough that Tony could feel the man’s breath on his cheek. At this close proximity, Tony could see some specks of red blood that had landed on the Dark Captain’s face from beating the kid to a bloody pulp. Distantly, Tony was aware of Romanov standing up and dragging the body out of the room, leaving a trail of blood behind her.

Focusing back on Rogers' face, his smirk twisted in cruel delight, Tony glared at the man for all he was worth, making sure his disgust was adamant as he hissed, “What the fuck Rogers? Are you guys seriously so messed up that you think it’s okay to kill kids!”

For a brief moment, there was a flash of disappointment on the Dark Captain’s face before it was immediately replaced by one of silent rage, “I gave an order and I expect my men to follow them. If they decide to disobey, that’s their fault…” Then Rogers leaned forward, lips so close to his own that Tony didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breath, as he whispered to Tony, like it was a secret, his blue eyes (darker than his own Steve’s) staring into his own, like ice-shards piercing his chest, “You’ll learn in time…”

At that comment, Tony felt pure hot rage ignite his veins and it was the only thing fuelling him as Rogers made to move back and Tony spat in his face, making everyone still in the room, no one even daring to breath.

One moment, everything was still, the next, Rogers looking to be surging towards him, fury in his eyes and looking to hit Tony like he did to that kid. Tony was only thankful that Thor was fast enough with his godly power to hold Rogers back from harming him. He was so focused on the enraged struggle that Tony didn’t notice when Romanov came into the room and up behind him, hitting him with a sleeping dose once again; knocking him out in seconds…

Later, he would wake up loosely chained to the wall in a boxed white room, food served to him three times a day and forced to eat it when he refused. He spent three days in that room and Tony didn’t think he’d ever come so close to insanity in his life…

After that, Tony had kept more to himself, not speaking up and not wanting to look at any of the dark Avengers but he knew that he was going to have to sooner or later if he ever wanted to escape.

Everyday, Tony was with someone, never left alone for one little second of each day and it would always be with one of the Avengers. They were the ones to fetch him from his ‘room’, standing outside the bathroom and Rogers had even taken him to some sort of meeting, keeping Tony pinned to a chair in a corner, mouth gagged when he wouldn’t stop talking or disturbing the meeting. There was simply no time that Tony was alone enough to slip away more than two feet.

Except from when he went to bed…

In his bed room, Tony was restrained in all different ways, bound to the bed at all corners, hands bound behind his back, bound at his front, legs free, hog-tied, the list went on and on. But, most importantly, Tony was left alone in the dark room. From what he’s seen of the simple, blank room, there was nothing in there other than a soft double bed and the restraints in the draw at his bedside cabinet. There was no other doors other than the one that he leaves and enters through, no technology that he could mess around with, no clocks or even a light switch or plug sockets inside the room, four smooth white walls circling in tauntingly. There were no windows, or weapons lying about, and there was also no cameras in the high or low corners of the room, the team obviously thinking that no technology was better than watching Tony sleep (that was a plus in Tony’s eyes).

The room was carefully stripped for Tony’s continued containment. If he were to investigate more, Tony would have to escape his restraints in the night (somehow) and take a look about before putting it all away in exactly the same place and with no idea when his captors would check in on him; Thor, in particular, had taken to random late night checks, in that time, he would talk to Tony about Loki and the home that he would one day be king of when his father finally dropped dead.

It was a slippery slope but Tony would have to risk it.

Distantly, Tony was reminded of the time he was held captive in the Afghanistan caves, the constant danger to his and his fellow prisoner’s lives, under constant supervision, constant fear and constant pain from the new addition in his chest.

This situation was different.

He was alone.

His captors weren’t stupid, they were trained warriors and deadly spies that have killed and killed again, ruthless in getting exactly what they want and how they want it.

And, worst of all, his captors only wanted _him_. That dwindled his escape chances to levels to near impossible.

They weren’t blinded by greed or want. Wanting something _from_ Tony meant that he could use whatever they wanted him to do to his advantage, like he’d done in the caves when he made the Arc Reactor and his first Iron Man suit. No, they didn’t want anything from him, they wanted him and only _him_ with nothing else attached.

That would mean that he would have to cause some kind of distraction when everyone had settled down, something that would distract them long enough for Tony to slip away - a kitchen explosion maybe? They had gotten to a point in his imprisonment where he was allowed to walk around the kitchen and fix his own food, his left foot being accompanied by a minimum of six feet of solid steel chain that was bolted to the kitchen floor— of course.

What Tony desperately needed was an opportunity, an opportunity to escape, runaway, find a way back home, something.

Thankfully, whatever god existed out there, that Tony had been constantly nagging, finally answered. An opportunity had arisen not one month after Rogers murdered the kid.

It was a little after ten at night, the usual time that Tony was lead to his barren bedroom and restrained in some way to insure his ‘safety’ as Barton put it so eloquently. However, just as he and Banner had entered his room, there was a loud explosion that shook the whole building, making Tony nearly loose his balance and Banner to crowd him into the wall protectively. Half a second of silence passed before there was another explosion, this one closer than the last, quickly followed by audible screams of many tortured and dying souls that were unfortunately still in the building at this time of night.

The speakers above them buzzed to life, “All Avengers - Repeat - _All_ Avengers report to the North, East wing of the building, Immediately.” With that, the speakers cut off and Banner, in a rush grabbed Tony’s arm and marched him the rest of the way to the room, which was thankfully on the opposite side of the building to the action.

Opening the sealed door, Banner shoved Tony inside, making the middle-aged man trip on the chains around his feet and nearly face-plant the floor. “Sorry, Tony,” Banner cringed apologetically as Tony glared up at the buzz-cut Doctor, his hair considerably shorter than Tony’s own Doctor Banner that was his timid-smiled science baddy, “I’ll get Clint to check on you after we’ve dealt with the intruders, I’ll probably be too busy analysing the dead bodies from the after-battle.”

With that, the door was locked once again and Tony was left alone.

Tony, like an idiot, stared at the closed door with wide, unbelieving eyes before he was finally able to snap himself out of his stupor. Peeling himself up off of the carpeted floors, Tony went over to his bed as fast as he could, hurriedly ripping off the neatly arranged covers, uncaring of where exactly they landed, before doing the same with the bed-spread.

Acting like a man that was close to the drug that he was addicted to, Tony started to claw at the finely stitched mattress with his blunt finger nails, hoping against hope that he could do this without being caught. For what felt like hours, that was probably only a few minutes, Tony finally freed some of the stitches in the mattress before violently ripping through the fabric to get to his prize inside.

With an expression of triumph, Tony yanked the springs from the mattress that he’d laid on countless nights. Not waisting anymore time, Tony used the metal spring to expertly pick the lock of his restraints (he’d been picking locks since he was six years old in order to get to Howard’s lab for his tools, why wouldn’t be be an expert?). For the first time in weeks, an almost painful feeling of hope and joy filled his chest, making him feel warm and want to cry at the same time. God, he didn’t even realise how much this place was getting to him until now, now that he was the closest he’s ever been to freedom and home in what must have been several months now. God, he couldn’t wait to get back to his lab, his robots, his JARVIS, and his real team.

Time ticking warningly in the back of his mind, Tony removed all of his cuffs and threw them across the room before getting up from the floor and getting to work on the door that blocked him from his freedom that he so desperately needed.

In no time at all, Tony felt the door finally unlock and his breath caught in his throat, his heart suddenly attempting to hummer through his chest and his Reactor as he cautiously opened the door. Sticking his head out, Tony carefully analysed the empty hallway, looking for threats and ignoring the twisted and distorted shadows that were attempting to scare him back into the room.

In the distance, Tony could hear the sounds of fighting, guns raining down on both sides non-stop and a constant play of people screaming in terror and pain. With a sickening feeling in his gut, Tony turned from the screams of the helpless and dying as he ran, bear-foot, down the dimly lit hallway, not stopping or slowing down until he reached the stairs. For a split second, Tony contemplated taking the elevator but almost immediately decided against it when he found the stairway, not willing to risk running about and bumping into someone whilst looking for an alternate way down.

Jumping down flights of stairs, Tony focused on his breathing and the sounds around him, forcing himself to be as quiet but as fast as possible as he descended lower and lower down the building. When he got down to the fifth floor, Tony couldn’t suppress a winning grin as he found that he could barely hear the noises of battle and chaos, the air tasting all the more sweeter with every step he took— or that could just be Tony’s excited imagination.

Thank whatever deity that’s real! He was getting the fuck out of here. Away from these crazy people that aren’t his teammates, that aren’t his friends. To Richards’ lab to try and find any of his research that is still there, or perhaps missed during clean-up. If not, he took part in Richards’ experiment at home, he knew the ins and outs of it all. Maybe he could recreate it and get himself home. There were plenty of shady placed in the city, if not the country, that could provide him the space that he needed. After he was safely away from these crazy people, all Tony really had to do was recreate the experiment and then he was home.

Feeling a bubble of a laugh blooming in his chest, Tony could only smile wider to himself when he read the underground floor where the carpark would be. Breaking into and hot-wiring a car would be as easy as picking a lock. He was practically home-free!

Panting and sweating slightly from going down over fifty flights of stairs, Tony picked the lock on another door to gain access to the garage before swinging it open. On unsteady legs, Tony stepped a foot into the garage, eyeing a car to his left as he did so. His get-away-car-to-be was nice, a dark red with a few scratches that were slightly visible, faint but still there. It was an older model car but it was low-key and looked like an average car. It would d—

Suddenly, Tony’s world was turned on his side as a weight tackled him from behind, making Tony scrape his chin on the cemented ground, the burst of copper on his tongue let him know that he’d bitten his tongue slightly in the fall.

Quickly, Tony turned around and aimed a punch at his adversary, only for it to be caught by a leather clad hand and forced down to his chest. That was when he finally had a good look at his attacker, the blood draining from his features with a mixture of fear and dread as his chocolate brown eyes met with the poison green of an extremely pissed off Natasha Romanov.

“Shit.” was all Tony managed, causing the Natasha Romanov of this universe to curve her lips in slight amusement before she flipped Tony onto his front once again.

“Gah! Get off me!” Tony yelled as he kicked out, trying to manoeuvre himself into a better position so that he could dislodge the female assassin.

She, however, was having none of it as she slid handcuffs onto Tony’s wrists, forcing his hands to still one after the after, making sure that the metal pinched at the raw skin of his wrists; a tenderness that had been inflicted by all the other restraints that he’d been struggling in lately.

Wincing at the pain, Tony hissed at the woman to get off of him once again before she was doing as he asked, dragging him up to his unsteady feet with her. He stumbled slightly at the swift movement, still quite disoriented by the force of Romanov’s tackle but he quickly shook it off. As a last ditch attempt, Tony attempted to elbow Natasha in the face as she stooped up behind him but it was inevitably caught by the straight-faced woman.

With that, Natasha grabbed Tony’s arm in a bruising grip, practically dragging him out of the car garage and to the ground floor, ignoring his curses and jabbing at painful pressure points in his back or twisting his fingers if he struggled a bit too much for her liking.

The cold floor of the ground floor, which was basically the reception area of the building, chilled Tony through to the bone as his bare-feet was forced to walk along the stone floors, making him shiver slightly. He got several stares from passer-bys and employees but they immediately averted their gazes when Tony attempted to meet their eyes, pleading desperation shining in his own, silently screaming for help.

When they stepped into the elevator, Romanov pressing the button for their floor, Tony’s shoulders finally sagged in defeat, there was no way of getting out of this now…

“Do you think Rogers will believe me if I said I got lost?” Tony pitifully joked after a few tense seconds of silence, a twitch of a smile on his lips as he side-eyed Romanov behind him.

He caught a small curve of the woman’s red-painted lips, which was practically Romanov rolling around on the floor laughing at the hilarity of it, and said in her usually soft and even voice, “Maybe if you look pitiful enough he wont be too hard on you.”

Raising an eye-brow at the woman that was more alike her counterpart than any of the others were and huffed a laugh, “Right. Will a few tears do? Or should I throw myself on the floor and turn into a blubbering mess?”

The spy rolled her eyes at him but was clearly amused, making Tony give the first real laugh since he’d gotten into this mess— it was small and weak in amusement but it was genuine.

Right then, the doors dinged open and Tony wiped all traces of his laugh off of his face because he knew that unlike his Steve, who would’ve given into Tony even if he just had watery eyes, this Steve Rogers— a darker more twisted man than the one Tony knew and befriended— would not give into a few tears and a mumbled apology. Tony had betrayed his budding trust by running away and trying to leave them all and no amount of pleading or begging will get Tony out of the unpredictable punishment that Rogers has conjured up in that homicidal brain of his.

At least Tony could walk into the room, knowing that none of them would try to kill him for his escape.

Thank god for small miracles…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will update this and other stories soon!
> 
> Thanks for staying with this and everything even though I kind of dropped off the radar for so long!
> 
> BYE!!


	3. You can't hide

If there was anything he said about there being a small miracle about the dark Avengers wanting him to be alive more than they wanted him dead, he was severely mistaken. Being dead was more of a blessing than what _this_ was...

It must have been... about a week, maybe? Tony didn't know for certain, his sense of time having been butchered with how long he'd been there. In the darkness and blistering heat of the room, blood dripping down his arm that was uselessly pinned to his side.

After Romanov had marched him into the living room, after Tony's miserably failed escape attempt, all eyes were on him. Tony prepared himself to look up, meeting the eyes of the others in a show of blatant defiance but quickly found himself looking away when he accidently met the eyes of this universe's Bruce, the man's calm brown eyes filled with tears of sadness and betrayal. No matter how different his universe's Bruce and this one's was, they looked the same and Tony hated seeing that look in his dear friend's eyes, aimed solely at Tony. Scowling at the floor to ceiling windows, Tony mentally screamed at himself, he shouldn't feel bad for trying to escape from a tower full of crazy and crazy powerful people that had imprisoned him.

He only looked up when Rogers stepped up to him, glaring down at him with chilling blue eyes that froze Tony' blood where he stood.

"You tried to escape." he stated calmly, his tense muscles and gritted teeth telling Tony that one wrong move would get him a few broken bones at the very least (unlike everyone else, Rogers' obsession over Tony was on the basis on: 'if I can't have you, no one can'), "Why?"

Silently, Tony steeled his nerves, trying not to tremble in front of the enemy, but Tony couldn't help but feel more helpless than he'd ever felt before; his hands secured viciously behind his back and standing before a furious Captain America-gone-mad, with none of his team mates to stop him. Tony didn't look though, he kept his gaze firmly on the window, wondering if this universe's Tony had built in reinforced glass that was impossible for anyone to get through (except from a god). Throwing himself out of the window seemed far more appealing than having a one-on-one with the evil Captain.

"Look at me!" Rogers roared, spittle flying from his mouth as his hand gripped at Tony's chin harshly enough to leave bruises. He gave an extra vicious squeeze of his jaw, making tears come to Tony's eyes at the agonisingly slow increase of pain, the man taking obvious glee in Tony's current predicament. Relief flooded the genius' system when Rogers relaxed his grip slightly, but tensed up again when the Captain's face was suddenly too close, noses millimetres apart as his stare bored into Tony's honey brown eyes. When Tony attempted to pull away, the Captain's hand on his jaw squeezed, making him wince at the pain, before Rogers eased up again. A warning. "Why, Tony?"

Taking a subtle deep breath, Tony looked into the dark Captain's eyes, and only his, "I wanted to go home. I don't belong here and it could be destroying both of our universes at the same time. This situation, in which I am here, is not researched enough for risks and assumptions to be made. I need to go back to where I belong. If you value your lives, I suggest you let me go and accept the fact that I am not a substitute and that your Tony is dead. I need to go back home, to my team, to my friends, to my world, and you are stopping me from trying to save you from yourself and your obsession!" Tony finished, glaring harshly into the Captain's ice-shard eyes.

Almost immediately, Tony knew that he'd angered the Captain more than he ever could as his face twisted into something dark and morbid with Tony's words alone and the room had grown so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Tony knew he'd regret telling the blunt truth that Tony 'hated their guts' and they 'terrified and disgusted him', so he decided to voice his other, equally alarming concerns. However, his avoidance of blunt honesty didn't do him many favours...

Suddenly, a large grin uncovered the dark Captain's pearly white teeth, far too many teeth, and he barked out a darkly amused laugh. His grip on his jaw moving to clasp the back of Tony's head, brushing at the hair on his nape with his fingers, making Tony want to duck under the appendage, but he didn't dare move. The laughter lasted a minute at most, that being the only thing to fill in the silence of the room, the others still absolutely silent; it unnerved Tony, sending a cold shiver up his spine as he got a full ear of Rogers' twisted laughter.

Rogers breathed deeply as he calmed himself, eyes bright with twisted mirth, his eyes only for Tony, "'Save me from myself'," he shook his head and chuckled, "Only you would think that I would need saving." he suddenly changed, all laughter and humour gone and his eyes went dead as he stared down at Tony, face stony and expressionless, "I don't need saving, Tony, I just need you." and with that, Rogers swiftly brought Tony forward, planting his lips firmly over Tony's closed mouth, only to open when Rogers hand gripped the hair at the back of his head - ripping a few strands out while he did so - and yanked Tony's head back, shocking him. Almost immediately, Rogers dived in with his tongue, stealing the air from Tony's lungs as he claimed every inch of his mouth. It was disgusting.

When the shock wore off, Tony bit down hard on the invading appendage, making Rogers let out a grunt of pain and move back and leaving a trail of the dark Captain's blood on his lips. The smaller man tried to move back but was stopped by the bruising grip on his shoulder and the crazed look that Rogers had in his eyes as he smiled insanely at him. Tony felt all the blood drain from his face at the sight alone. The Captain shook his head, "Shouldn't have done that, Tones." he wagged his finger at the genius like he was a naughty child, looking far too please with himself.

There was only time for a second of confusion before Tony felt something sharp in his neck and his world started to gradually get darker. The last thing he heard before darkness completely enveloped him was the taunting voice of the dark Captain above him, Tony having falling into the man's arms, "You'll wake up in your punishment, Tones..." accompanied by a low chuckle.

Later on, Tony woke up in a dark room, the place pitch black to the point where he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face, and the heat around him was stifling to the point of suffocation. It reminded hand him of Afghanistan. The darkness of the cave, the sweltering heat, unable to escape, unable to see the sky when he looked up... It was horrible...

Tony didn't know how long he'd been there but he could count that he'd have around three panic attacks already and his growing stench didn't particularly bother him any more. Everyday, Tony got three visits: a bit of bred for breakfast, a bit of cheese for lunch, a bit of meat for dinner (better than the limited rice that had to be split between two people with the Ten Rings). In those times when the door opened, a large bowl of freezing water would be chucked over him, startling him so bad that he couldn't react until the door was closed and his food and a small cup of water awaited his attention. The water must have been Bruce's idea, an effort to stop him from overheating and dying.

Some time during the fifth day (?), Tony was dragged out of the small dark, overheated room and was forced to stagger after a determined Thor, who had a firm grip on his arm, practically dragging him down the corridor. They didn't stop until they were outside of a large lab; a hazy look through the glass door showed that Bruce was in there, standing by a metal table, looking as equally determined as Thor.

"Doctor Banner, I have brought our dear friend here, as per your request," he pulled up Tony, lifting him off the floor and making Tony hiss in pain at the thunder god's bruising grip, "Where do you wish him placed?"

Banner pointed at the chair behind him, eyes now distracted by the notes on his clip board, "Just here."

As Thor grew closer with Tony in tow, the smaller man got a clearer view of the chair and he felt the blood drain from his face at the sight of it. Immediately, Tony tried to wrench his hand free from the god's vice-like grip, grunting and gritting his teeth against the pain.

However, it was all in vain as Thor easily lifted him up and onto the chair, catching the desperate kicks and punches before he secured them down into the built in shackles on the chair. However, it wasn't done, as more shackles were clicked into place, around his thighs and shins, around his forearms and around his neck. Straps, like belts, were fastened around his chest and hips, effectively pinning him to the chair with no slack in his binds.

"Let me go! Now!" Tony ordered, fear and anger clear on his face and in his actions.

When he'd become completely immobile, panting for breath as he spent the last of his energy, that he didn't have much of, squirming in place, both Bruce and Thor looked down upon him, a saddened resolve in their eyes showing that whatever they were about to do to Tony was not good in the slightest bit.

"Bruce, Thor, please," he begged, Tony really didn't want to look at Bruce and not relate him with anything but the meekly quiet Doctor, not the monster-versions that he could relate everyone else to, "Whatever you're about to do, don't. Don't do this. Please don't."

But his pleads for mercy seemed to fall on deaf ears as Thor stepped off to the side, arms folded as he observed the two, and Banner picked something up before he came back. Banner shook his head regretfully, disappointment shining through his brown eyes as they set on Tony, "I'm sorry Tony, but if this stops you from trying to run away, then I have to do this."

Tony wasn't embarrassed to admit that he was trembling with absolute fear as his wide eyes locked onto what Banner had in his hand. It was a metal hoop, a thick one that looked like a shackle but was lacking the chain. On the outside, Tony could see two dim lights, the device not turned on yet. On the inside of the metal band was what scared Tony the most, the inside held four one-inch long barbed needles, each one at least a centimetre thick at the base, making it look like a futuristic torture device.

Shaking his head, Tony looked from Banner to the thing that Tony would describe as a small collar, but it seemed just a little too small for his neck. "Bruce, don't! I wont try to run again! I swear!" Tony shouted as he tried to thrash in the chair, strength renewed with his new fear, trying desperately to get away from the crazy quack of a Doctor, "Don't put that thing on my neck!"

"It's not going on your neck." Bruce said plainly and Tony froze for a split second of utter relief when he felt a searing pain on his arm. Shouting out in surprised pain, Tony only just caught the rest of Bruce's sentence, "It goes around your bicep."

Looking down, Tony saw the device Bruce was holding, two of the barbed needles buried firmly into the back of his bicep, blood already flowing like small rivers down his arm, dripping off of his finger tips. It was still open and Tony watched with pain filled eyes as Banner started to close it, the hovering pressure of the last two needles threatening at his skin. Shaking his head with wide eyes, Tony could only say, "No, Bruce, don't!" before pain erupted throughout his arm once again, brining tears to his eyes as he grunted and gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. He refused to give them the satisfaction of him screaming...

There was a metallic click and Tony knew that the thing was now secured around his arm, blood running down his arm around the contraption that was now nestled firmly against his skin. Tony breathed deeply as he blinked the pained tears from his eyes and looked down, noting that the dull lights were now green.

"What the hell is that thing?" Tony growled out with a hateful glare at the stoic doctor, who looked like he wouldn't regret what he'd just done for the world.

"It's a tracker," Banner informed Tony helpfully, eyes flickering over Tony's restrained form before focusing back on his screen, "Whenever you go into a room that you're not authorised to go into, it flashes yellow and all the team is notified of where you are. If you're too far away from us, it flashes red at you and within ten seconds, a sedative will be injected and you'll fall unconscious, ready for us to collect you." Banner frowned at the blood that was beginning to form a small puddle where Tony's hand was, the blood still steadily dripping from his lightly shaking fingers, "The wounds should be painful for a few months but, given time, you should be able to accept the knew foreign object into your body and it will heal around the point of intrusion. It's like your arc reactor that you got in the cave in Afghanistan, but it's going to be more safe due to all the disinfectants being here." Banner smiled warmly, or attempted to as Tony only found his panic steadily increasing.

But he froze when he realised what the Doctor had said. With wide eyes of shock, Tony slowly looked to this universe's Banner and couldn't help the stammer, "How- How do you know about... Af- Afghanistan?" In his head, his thoughts were in a whirl of chaotic rage and panic. How the hell did they know about his time in Afghanistan? Enough to know that he was in a cave while he was there and had been deprived of safe and sterilised medical equipment, apparently. Tony hadn't even told his team mates in his own universe, so how the hell did these people know?!

Banner gave a small, soft smile as he looked down at Tony, the genius too much in his own shock to flinch away from the Doctor when he placed a comforting hand on his face, his thumb rubbing soothingly over Tony's cheek bone.

"Of course we know, Tony," Banner continued his movements, his voice soft and comforting, "We found those files, that JARVIS kept, about your medical history when he... passed on. Steve wasn't happy when he found out about that and practically hunted down anyone who was still alive on the long list of people who hurt you. We were all very sad when we found out the truth..."

"Hunted?" Tony frowned, still slightly in his state of shock, "Who-"

"There were many of those who had wronged you, my friend," Thor spoke up for the first time since Banner had put the device on, coming over to place a large hand on his uninjured shoulder and squeezing it comfortingly, "Far too many..." Thor trailed off darkly, something strange in his voice and something unrecognisable in the thunder god's usually juvenile blue eyes.

Tony seemed to come to himself at that point and tried to shift away from the gentle touches of his captors, but it became futile as he realised that he was still well restrained, unable to even shift. A small jerk in an attempt to loosen the belts sent a dull throb down his arm and he bit his tongue in an attempt to swallow his groan of pain.

However, it seemed that he didn't cover up his groan as well as he thought as Banner and Thor frowned in concern, Banner's eyes flickering to the still-bleeding injury before he nodded his head in realisation, "I would refrain from moving this arm too much in the coming months, Tony, if you're not careful you could collapse from blood loss." Then, the Doctor stepped away for a second before coming back with a damp wash-cloth and, without further words, he started to clean up the blood from Tony's arm, rubbing between each individual finger and every dip of the slowly depleting muscles of his arms. Tony kept a straight face throughout the whole thing, controlling himself enough to keep the heated blush from rising to his cheeks; for some reason, he felt like he was being sexually harassed by his alternate best friend... He did _not_ need that experience.

When the last of the blood was swept up, Banner made sure to bind his arm to his side so that he couldn't move it and rip open the wounds, that had only just started to blood clot, again. And with that, Tony was once again dropped off into the too dark, too hot room. Although, he had to be carried there by Thor, when Tony felt a little too pale from the blood loss and found that his legs were too wobbly to even attempt to walk properly.

And that was where he still was. Despite Banner' best efforts in stopping Tony from using his injured arm, it didn't stop Tony from trying to pry off the invading torture device with his free hand, getting blood all down his side and over the walls. No one came to clean up the blood and Tony was somewhat thankful for the daily douse of water that they threw at him, quickly getting rid of the flaking blood that was stuck to his skin uncomfortably. However, Tony soon gave up when he found that he was doing more damage than good to his arm, the device too tightly sealed and his finger nails were beyond cracked and splintered from trying to scratch at the clasp.

It was days later (?) that his routine broke once again. Rogers stood at the doorway, a light surrounding his silhouette, making him look like an angel saviour - what a deceiving light... It was a few minutes of silence as Rogers only stood there, staring down at Tony's dirtied and slumped form, the genius not even having enough energy to stand up and make a strong front; he just too exhausted to care right now.

Tony hated it. Hated the relief that filled him whenever he saw one of his insane captors and not the lackeys that treated him like a dangerous pet. Tony hated the hope that he got from seeing the blonde with a killer's eyes - someone that he should loathe and hate for keeping him in this cage - knowing that if the man before him forgave him, he could escape the darkness that was slowly driving him insane with warm food and coffee, warm bodies, and laughter all about him. Tony wanted that back, something that his captors had once supplied, than have to dwell in this cruel darkness and silence one more day.

Rogers didn't say anything, his lips thin as he looked down at the man before him, the man that was slowly cracking, slowly breaking beyond recognition, with a blank face and even blanker eyes. Slowly, Tony felt his resolve give in and he bowed his head and let his lengthy hair fall over his face in shame as he let his miserable tears flow freely down his face, his shoulders shaking in barely contained sobs and gasps of breath. Desperately, Tony wanted to go home, go to his team, banter with JARVIS, get yelled at by Pepper, and talk with Rhodey about the 'good ol' days'. But, unfortunately, more than anything, more than his desire to go home, he wanted to escape the darkness and silence that he'd currently been subjected to. And Rogers and the others were his salvation.

"I- I'm sorry, Steve," Tony heaved between gasps of breath, "I promise, I-I wont escape again. I wont," Tony shook his head, feeling his unrestrained hand tremble as he brought it to cover his face, "I promise. Pl- Please, don't leave m-me alone again." he continued to cry and tremble before the unmoving man in the entrance.

Just when Tony thought that Rogers was just going to shut the door once again and walk off, he felt a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around him, careful of his healing arm, and gently press Tony into Steve's muscled chest, encouraging him to rest there. Fingers threading through his hair, accompanied by the soft voice of Rogers shushing him and telling him that everything was alright, that Tony had served his punishment well and that he was getting out of this god forsaken cell.

With only a second of hesitation, Tony's free arm wrapped around the Captain's firm, gripping the shirt that he wore in a white-knuckled grip, not wanting the man to suddenly vanish or leave him behind in the room. Silent tears slipped hotly down Tony's cheeks, creating a wet patch on the larger man's shirt as he cried his worth, shamelessly taking comfort from his enemy.

The fingers continued to card soothingly through his hair and slowly, Tony felt himself relaxing into the comforting warmth that all super soldiers seemed to have. Exhaustion, both physical and emotional, hit Tony like a brick wall and it wasn't long until Tony found himself snuggling into the firm chest of Steve Rogers, cradled effortlessly in the man's arms as he steadily walked down the hall.

Looking down at the dozing genius in his arms, Steve couldn't help a cruel smile flitting over his face, victorious and triumphant all in one. Steve knew that Tony was _his_ now, in mind. His body and soul would soon come after...

He chuckled softly as Tony snuggled more into him, his fingers lax with fatigue, but still somewhat gripping onto Steve's cotton shirt. Pressing a delicate kiss to the genius' head, ignoring the foul smell that came with being in the Black Box for an entire month (Steve was sure that Tony had no idea how long he'd truly been there and he never would), as he headed to his room.

Kicking shut the heavily barricaded door behind him, Steve slowly set his precious cargo on the large bed, deftly hands taking off the blooded shirt and trousers, that Tony had worn for the whole month, and replaced it with an over seized shirt that belonged to Steve. Looking down at the picture of mouth watering innocence, Steve had to force himself to tear his eyes away to get the required restraints that Tony would most likely wear for years before he was completely without them, fastening the thick shackles over his ankles and leaving his other arm free - the right arm already having been pinned to his side.

Silently, Steve observed the man that he thought he would never see again. He remembered the heart wrenching pain that erupted in his heart when he heard of his Tony's death. He almost went completely mad with rage at the response his death brought from the public, wanting to slaughter and laugh and drench himself in their blood and fear. Instead, he settled for world domination. To have the man back was like returning from Hell and being embraced by an angel, everything about him was like his own Tony. This Tony was strong, smart, a smooth talker, an observer, an adamant listener, cunning, sly, everything that his own Tony was - although, he seemed to somehow be less innocent than what his Tony was like, able to tell that they weren't the embodiment of good within an instant.

Stroking one finger tenderly down the genius' face, admiring the small puffs of breath that he let out as he sunk deeper into sleep, before he removed his own shirt and trousers, leaving him in just his pants, and then climbed into his bed. His arm possessively curled around his genius as Steve stuck his nose in the other's hair, taking a deep breath like a drug addict getting his dosage after so long from being apart from it. Even his scent was the same as his old Tony...

With a cruel smile and hugging the smaller man closer to his bare chest, Steve whispered in the other's ear, "You've already saved me Tony. I'll never let you go..." before kissing the man's cheek and settling down to sleep with the man he loved in his arms, after so many years...

* * *

 

"Doctor Richards, I would suggest that you keep your musings to yourself. After all, it was your fault that Tony was sucked through a dimensional portal in the first place." Steve practically growled at the lanky scientist that was, once again, muttering about Tony in distain.

The man before him gulped as he looked up at the towering super solider, who stood before him in a tight white shirt that made his bulging muscles even more noticeable. The rest of the team, that had accompanied Steve, looked down their noses at the scientist with a sneer of distain on their own parts.

None of them had been at all happy when they heard that Tony had been sucked through a portal, was alive (most likely), but was in a different dimension among millions, which did nothing to relax the furious frowns from their collective faces. The response from Fury was less than satisfactory and had Natasha with a gun to the Master Spy's head and Bucky's metal hand clasped tightly around the man's throat, while Steve stood calmly before him with his arms crossed as he got the information that they needed from the SHIELD Director.

The Avengers were now loitering around the Baxter Building, refusing to leave until Richard brought their most important team member back. It also helped when Natasha and Susan got along like a house on fire; Susan joined in with the Avengers' glares towards her husband and she threatened to with-hold sex from him until Tony had been safely returned to them (to which he replied with the fact that all of the Avengers were like cockroaches and were impossible to kill, no matter the odds, which earned him a week on the sofa as punishment).

"I appreciate what Tony did for me," Richard started carefully, one would be an idiot to insult the iron clad genius in front of the Captain and his team, "He saved me from a fate that is now his. But it doesn't help the fact that finding Tony out of thousands of possible locations is extremely hard and would be increasingly hard to send you there to retrieve him, if not fatal to the multiverse."

This made Natasha frown before she looked at Bruce, who was helping Richard find Tony, silently questioning why this was so.

Bruce nodded in agreement with Richard, although he seemed reluctant to do so, "The most likely reason that Tony was so easily sucked through would be because there's a space for him there, which means that the Tony in the universe that he's gone to, either never existed, or has died. If we go there as well, with our own selves there as well, it would be too much to fit, forcing the universe to adjust to our presence when it never should. It could cause disastrous, unknown effects. Or it could do nothing. Either way, because there's no room for you, it's going to be harder to travel there and then we need to find a way to get us back to our universe. It's very tricky and full of impossibilities and risks. To put it plainly, it's serious dangerous and we need to be careful." Bruce finished, the rest of the team nodding in understanding.

"It matters not the danger!" Thor bellowed, which was actually his inside voice, "We shall retrieve Antony in the end and we shall be victorious against any foe that might stand in our way. Be positive, my Shield comrades, the Norns will answer our prayers."

Clint chuckled from the high railings that he was expertly perched on, overviewing everything that was taking place around the large lab, "If anything, Tones is probably living it up with our alternate selves, giving them the shock of the century. That universe wouldn't even know what hit 'em," Clint chuckled before he pointed a finger towards the younger Storm sibling that was leaning against the wall, keeping well out of the way of everything, "I saw you picking your nose." smirking when he saw the subtle flush the fire-wielder had rising on his cheeks.

An offended "Hey!" prompting a snort from the bird-themed superhero.

Nodding in agreement, Rhoades spoke up, a faint smile on his lips, "I'd listen to those two. Tony will be fine for the time being and if they're anything like you guys, he would have them wrapped around his little finger within a week." puffing his chest up with overconfidence that he didn't have, trying to keep his overwhelming worry at bay.

"We aren't _that_ whipped!" Yelled out the perched blonde.

There were a few chuckles around the room when there was a loud beeping noise, making everyone freeze and fall quiet. All eyes eagerly felling on the blinking screen that made the noise.

Immediately, Bruce made his way over, a pleased smile on his face as he looked up to his worried team mates, "We've pinpointed his location. We're one step closer to getting Tony back, guys!" electing a cheer from everyone at the good news. "We're coming, Tony." Bruce whispered to himself determinedly. He would bring his friend home. No matter the leaps and bounds he had to commit in doing so.

A renewed hope bloomed about the room, their optimism practically contagious, with a certainty that they _will_ bring Tony home.


	4. You can't win

When Tony finally woke up from his deep slumber, it was to a very disturbing and horrifying sight...

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Tony shrieked as he attempted to roll away from the Captain, already knowing that he was well restrained with the far too familiar weight around his ankles. However, his escape was short lived as Rogers only chuckled before he used his superior strength to pull Tony back in, pressing the genius flush against his hard muscled chest.

Tony wriggled again and attempted to bend down as best he could in that position to bite the Captain and get him off. In response, however, Rogers quickly moved his hand, his blunt fingernails digging painfully into Tony's still-healing arm, until the genius let loose a pained cry when he couldn't bite down on his tongue any longer. It felt like it was starting to bleed again. Great.

"Let me go, you bastard." Tony spat before he could stop himself, his face quickly loosing colour with the realisation at what he'd just said and the repercussions that could come to hand. He didn't want to go back into that dark room...

With those sudden thoughts, Tony was unconsciously shaking fearfully, each tremor making the dark Captain grin, dark and feral. He could see it, feel it, his Tony was finally breaking, finally starting to show his cracks after so many months. Everyone knew that if bribery and propaganda didn't work, then fear was the next best thing - and fear looked absolutely wonderful on Tony.

Lazily, like he'd been doing it for years, Rogers tucked his head into Tony's shoulder, dragging his nose across the tanned, slightly dirtied, skin, inhaling softly, the flick of his heated tongue against the sensitive skin, getting Tony to squirm again, twisting in Steve's grip and muttering curses in different languages, demands for Steve to fuck off. The blonde soldier paid him no mind, the small flicks of his tongue becoming long licks from the base of Tony's neck, up to his ear, mapping out the expanse of his neck, his hand tickling over the surface of his chest, bushing over the small amount of muscle that the man had left and tracing the scarring with feather-light touches.

However, before Rogers could go further in his guilty pleasure, the alarm went off, alerting him of an important meeting that he needed to get to, and it was much too important to allow Tony to sit in on it this time. Reluctantly, Rogers removed himself from the restrained genius, noting with analytical eyes that Tony seemed to sigh in relief at the absence of Steve's touches. Humm… He would have to work on that at a later date.

Quickly getting dressed, Steve's eyes barely left the still form on his bed, wishing that the small man would face him, and look upon him with adoring brown eyes as he whispered words of love and affection. However, as it stood currently, Tony was turned away from him, low mutters of resentment passing through his lips instead of the sweet nothings that he so desired.

It would all come with time, Steve knew. And Steve was a very patient man.

Gliding a comb through his hair, Steve reached over to Tony and forcefully turned him over, smiling down at the fierce glower that Tony was directing his way, before he leaned down and planted a kiss against his genius' plump lips, smiling into it when he looked upon the shock-wide eyes that stared up at him, unable to react appropriately due to the shock.

"I'll send Thor up soon to help you shower and get cleaned up. See you later." he bided before he stepped out of the room, triple locking the door behind him. Steve was sure that the genius wouldn't be able to attempt to escape again so soon, especially with the new accessory that he was still healing from and his depleted energy from the dark room - still not 100% despite sleeping for hours the night before. But Steve wouldn't leave it to chance. Not again.

Tony was then left alone in Rogers room, on his bed. The thought made Tony shudder in disgust and he felt sick at the memory of what had just happened... It made his skin itch and the near-overwhelming desire for a shower to wash away the phantom touches over his neck and chest. He could feel his face heat in fury and shame of what had just occurred and the position, in which Rogers and the other twisted team members, had reserved for him became clearer than it ever had before and Tony could barely keep down the bile that rose in his throat.

Instead of getting the shower that he so desperately wanted, Tony was stuck, tied up on the bed, counting the seconds until Thor inevitably came and carried him somewhere else. Thor would probably let him have a shower, if Tony asked him somewhat politely. Thor, in this world, was nicer than the others. While Tony preferred the Thor of his own world, loud and brash with a story at his lips and always looking at Tony like a kicked puppy whenever he had to go down to the lab with a broken toaster, begging for Tony to fix it. In this world that he was stuck in, Thor was more stoic and silent, softly spoken and seeming to see everything around him. His blue eyes were dimmer, his smile rarer but nonetheless brighter when it did appear, and he wore his hair slightly shorter, his blonde hair only reaching his chin, the style being more human, than the curtained hair that brushed his broad shoulders in his own world.

Everything was different here, and yet exactly the same. It was disturbing and odd. Tony had lost count with how many times he'd forgotten himself and started to joke, or laugh with the team, only to stop when he spotted the chains, or the slight differences that he could see in his team members. Just a few weeks ago, Tony couldn't bare the mere presence of any of the team members of this world - they were too familiar and it pained and sickened Tony to see how far the team had fallen, not wanted to see his friends in these monsters. Now, Tony didn't want to be alone, not after the dark room they had placed him in for an untold amount of time. He wanted someone to be with him, to hear a friendly voice next to him. He didn't want to be alone anymore and that thought was slowly killing him inside. In his mind, Tony knew that he was looking for a replacement for his old team members in his state of injury and vulnerability, the Dark Avengers being too close to the real this for Tony to not desire their presence, their voices, their touches. This was getting too deep for Tony and he could feel himself close to drowning...

His eyes burned with unshed tears and his emotions fought and conflicted with one another, confusing him beyond belief.

Tony was in his own world and was trying hard to suppress his own tears of panic when the lower part of his face was clamped shut in a bruising grip, as they turned him over on the bed. Frightened, Tony could only breath hard through his nose as he tried to struggle, his restraints hindering most of his movement. He could only squirm before a hushed voice registered in his head, one that had Tony's eyes widening with shock and a dangerous amount of hope to suddenly flood his systems.

Staying still, Tony looked desperately into the cool blue of the eyes before him, attempting to portray all of his thoughts and exclamations of help into one stare alone.

After a moment longer with the hand over his face, it was removed and the hands were instantly on Tony's shoulders, pulling him up into a seated position. In less than a second, the man was using high tech tools and lock picking kits to destroy Tony's restrains that were on his ankles and the rope over his torso. Tony would have drawled over the nice tech that they handled if he wasn't in such a state of shock and happiness with who was in front of him in that moment.

God, he hadn't seen this man in years, and he'd thought him dead in his own world. He would have to check that out when he got back...

Breaking out into a huge grin, Tony barely resisted the urge to laugh outright, instead keeping his voice to a low whisper, shifting his eyes to the door to make sure that they were properly alone. Wasn't Thor supposed to be here any minute?

"Coulson..." he breathed, having no idea how much he'd missed the man until he saw him just now, "I can't believe it. What are you doing here? How? Wait - are you as twisted and deranged as everyone else here in this universe?"

This gave the stoic agent pause, his knife poised on the last rope that was around Tony, the genius having to ignore the tingling sensation that shot up and down his arm, bordering on painful. "Threw the vents. No, I'm not evil. And I'm getting you out." he stated with the finality that reminded Tony purely of Phil Coulson - monotoned, deadpanned, 'I'll watch _Super Nanny_ while you twitch and spasm in the corner' Phil Coulson - before he cut away the last of the rope, letting Tony's numb arm fall limply to his side. While the Agent was all the same with his mannerisms, he wasn't exactly how Tony remembered him either - his traditional dark custom-made sharply-cut suit was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he was dressed in a thread-bare t-shirt and ratty old black jeans, a beaten up gun holster at his side with an older modelled gun, with a few kitchen knives on his person - Tony would have though that the Agent would have worn armour, or a padded vest too, if he had any access to one. His hair was slightly longer than the professional buzz-cut that he usually sported - not that it was down to his shoulders either but it was still a few centimetres too long to how Tony remembered him.

However, as the words processed in Tony's mind, he felt his shocked disbelieving smile fall from his face, his face rapidly draining of colour and dread settled like a cold heavy stone in his stomach.

Getting out.

Escaping.

The cost of that, the pain and mental torment that he went through surfaced back up. He knew the results of escaping and they were by no means the result of anything good. Even now Tony was suffering from his last escape attempt - the pulsating pain in his arm doubling with the reminder of it. The pulsating pain seemed like a warning, a reminder of what had happened to him. Then, faster than water from a sink, all of his happiness and energy in seeing Coulson, in being able to finally get out of there, drained away.

He didn't notice the minute trembling of his form until Coulson's large hand rested on it, making Tony flinch slightly from the sudden touch. But the appendage held strong and firm in a gentle and comforting way.

"Deep breaths, Tony," the strong voice commanded, "Like me." and to demonstrate the ex-agent of SHIELD started to breath in deeply, holding it before letting it out - in for five seconds, hold for six, out for seven - and they repeated it until Tony could breath normally, his previous frozen panic melting away to allow him movement once again. "I need you to be with me, Tony. We cannot get caught. I can't stress this enough and I can't be sure of what they'd do if they saw either of us trying to escape." he shook his head, looking troubled.

Tony couldn't find it in himself to feel surprised by the agent's show of emotion, suddenly feeling a strange mix of depressed and relieved as his hand absentmindedly went to his arm, "Then I don't think you'll be able to take me..."

Frowning, Phil opened his mouth before his eyes tracked Tony's hand movements, and he was on the bandage within seconds, unwrapping it almost desperately before freezing. He let out a regretful sigh as he uncovered the device completely, revealing the steel metal band around his bicep, the skin around the area an irritant red, but looking well on its way to healing with the barbed needles embedded.

Tony watched with sad eyes as Phil looked at the device with growing pity and horror, his hands going limp by his side with the lightly bloodied bandage still in his hand, "I tried taking it off before but I'd either pass out from blood loss, or pass out due to the sedatives that are in the band... I can't get it off at all and it tracks everywhere I go..."

Instead of the expected reaction of Phil shaking his head in pity and then walking off without Tony, he was surprised when Phil took something out of his bag and started to lather a clear liquid around some tin foil before he started to wrap it around the metal band on his arm. When he was done, he gave Tony a wary smile before he clamped his uninjured bicep and stated, "We're good to go."

With that, he stood up and started to get into the air vents, looking expectantly at Tony.

"What?" for all that a genius Tony was, that was the only thing that he could think of to say.

"While Doctor Banner is a commendable scientist and was a genius in his own field of gamma radiation and biology, he was never a genius in mechanical sciences. There are many faults in his device and he has come little ways to improve this particular device." he stated, before he lifted up his sleeve to reveal the large markings that resembled the barbed needles in the same place that Tony's were. He then looked down at his own tin-foil-wrapped band of his and made a mental note to ask Agent what he'd used to render it useless later.

With a smile and a nod, Tony wasted no time in climbing in after the Agent, ignoring the little voice in his head that told him this was a bad idea and that he should stay in the room, making sure to secure the vent behind him as he made his way through. Upon further inspection, Tony could see that the screws that would have been fastened and bolted to the wall were missing, leaving the small doorway to slot itself back into place. Suddenly, Tony had a realisation, his body going momentarily still before he cleared his throat as quietly as he could as to get the tremor out of his voice. It didn't work, "Wh-Where's Thor? And doesn't- doesn't Cli- Barton use the vents?"

Phil didn't turn around to face him as he crawled through the vents that spoke of experience that the usually sharp-suited agent didn't look like he had, "Thor broke the toaster again so he'll spend a little time panicking about that," at that, Tony was struck once again by how similar that statement was to his own world, where his Thor would have done the exact same thing, "Barton doesn't go into the vents anymore, not since you were killed in this world." Tony decided not to ask how the hell the former Agent found out about Tony being held captive here and that he was from another world, he was sure he'd get a cryptic response if he asked...

Tony nodded, feeling clam and hopeful, though he did everything in his power to squash the hope down, for he knew that if this escape didn't work and he was put through the punishment that the psycho Captain would come up with, it would kill him and break him like he was so close to doing right now. If they were caught, it was over. For both of them...

As Tony followed Phil through the vents, ignoring the pains on his arm and ribs, lines of ugly bruising from the tight ropes around him starting to appear, his not-yet-healed bicep twinging with pain at every movement. In silence, Tony wondered who else that team had captured and held hostage in an effort to keep their loved ones close. Coulson seemed to have been subjected to the same things that Tony had been (which would explain the already fixed restrains that were all over the place) and he wondered who else had fit into the category of 'too loved' for the dark avengers of this world. Coulson held a special place in Clint and Natasha's hearts back in his world. But Tony couldn't think of who else would be part of their little group. Tony would have thought of Bucky, Steve's long-life friend, but he had been apart of HYDRA and if the team of this world had ruined HYDRA in the most horrid way that they claimed to have done, was it possible that they had unknowingly killed Bucky in the process? Or did he escape like Phil had?

Tony would have asked but no small amount of fear of being heard kept his mouth firmly shut, breathing shallowly through his nose as he moved through the vents.

Not a few minutes later, Coulson was opening up another vent, stealthily easing his way through the hole and down on the ground below. Without hesitation, Tony followed down, though he was less graceful and not at all silent, it wasn't like the whole building heard him so he smiled through the painful skyrocketing of his frantically beating heart, as to make the Agent roll his eyes at him. Which he did. However, Tony's faux mirth was easily overridden when he looked about the room they were in.

It was huge, taking the length and width of the entire building, the corners dark and empty of any and all life, like an abyss. But Tony wasn't really shocked by the largeness of the room, his eyes pinned onto the forms that looked at him with dull, unseeing, uncomprehending eyes... In the form of rooms were a few cages that Tony recognised at the Hulk container that was once on the helicarrier that Fury had been so proud of, the one that they had first put Loki in when they detained him, before the Battle of New York happened.

They were all lit up, showing every aspect of the large cells that the people were trapped in. They all had a large bed, a toilet, a sink, all of it white and bright with the sterol lighting that came up from the floor itself, making it look too clean to be normal.

The prisoners, however, were another matter. Tony recognised both of them instantly... The first cell held Loki, though his eyes were unseeing, his once vibrant green eyes faded into a dull, almost murky green, black thread interwoven along his lips that had long since healed over and his wrists encased in a steel metal that looked similar to the band around Tony's bicep. As Tony stepped up to the thick windows, Loki give no indication of knowing that anyone was there, as he just sat there, straight backed as he stared unseeingly at the furthest wall. He didn't move. He didn't even twitch.

With growing horror, Tony's eyes dragged themselves away from the beaten form of Loki and pinned to the other. He felt all the colour drain from his face as his eyes fell onto the other person that resided in the cell next to Loki's own. The man's brown hair was cut short, into a style that suited a man from Steve Rogers' memories, his clothes very much the same and his arm seemingly ripped off from his socket, the wires and plates of metal still bent and twisted from what had happened to it. Bucky Barnes sat on his bed, in his cell, his own metal band on the bicep of his remaining arm, steel blue eyes blank and staring at the same wall that Loki was, they were empty, dead. It didn't take Tony long to figure out exactly what had been done to the two prisoners as he took in the familiar state that Barnes was in. It was a state that Tony recognised from his HYDRA days, when those bastards had used the Chair on him...

Feeling the rest of his colour drain out of his face, Tony frantically searched about and thanked the heavens when he found a cleaning bucket that hadn't been put away. Collapsing heavily onto his knees, Tony clutched the bucket like a life-line as he heaved his guts out. When there was nothing left in his stomach, not that there was much in the first place, he dry heaved a few painful times before he managed to stop, eyes streaming and breathes shaky and hitched before he set the bucket down carefully with trembling limbs.

It took Tony a while to finally realise that there was a hand on his shoulder, warmth radiating from it and a low voice bringing him out of his dazed state. With shaky, slightly numb, fingers, Tony reached around and clenched the hand that was offered to him, unsure if he was shaking with fear or rage, listening as the voice told him to breath, counting and getting him to focus.

By the time a minute passed, Tony was deadly focused on Phil's furrowed brows and thinned lips, concern shining in his sky blue eyes.

"I'm fine." Tony nodded through his sore and scratchy throat, grimacing at the sound of it. "I'm fine." he stated again, more to himself that anyone else, before he used the surface of a table to pull himself up and steady himself.

"I guess they haven't brought you here yet. Sorry. I should have warned you." Agent stated in his usual monotone as he looked over Tony, trying to determine if he was alright.

"I don't think any kind of warning would have prepared me for this..." Tony trailed off weakly as he looked at the silent and immobile prisoners that were merely a few feet away. From the corner of his eye, Tony could see a closed off room, no windows to see into it but the ominous feeling that Tony got from it sent a chill up his spine. He didn't need to be told what was in there to know what it was already. Tony could only hope that he never had to see the inside of it... "They're even crazier than I thought..." Tony muttered as he rubbed a hand over his face, the despair of the situation making him want to erupt into hysterical giggles, but he held back, opting to stay silent instead.

Phil didn't stay anything, his expression grim as he stood up from crouching in front of Tony. As he walked towards the round glass cells, he eyed the keypad with a longing look before he turned around and looked at Tony, who was glaring at the boxed-out room in the corner.

"We need to set them free," he interrupted the genius' mental cursing, drawing his gaze to him, "They've been here before they even found me in the first place..."

Looking at the glass cages and feeling his stomach churn once again, Tony nodded before he slowly walked towards Phil, honey-brown eyes skimming over the key pad with interest, before he completely delved into his engineer mind-set. It had been so long since he'd come across an advanced piece of technology like the one he was in front of now. Rogers and the others had been sure to keep any and all technology far away from his grasp so that he couldn't make a way to escape and kill them in the process. The key pad wasn't an advanced piece of beauty that Tony had wanted to handle, but it was enough to satisfy his mind of a while.

Mechanically, Tony removed the metal plating that was just bellow the pad, fiddling with the wires and deciphering which ones went where. Soon everything fell away into muffled white noise as he yanked out the wires that would nullify the cages' defences and alerts that were all around it.

Within a few minutes, Tony was picking himself up from the floor, dusting his hands off, and walking over to the door, easily prying it open with his fingers and letting Coulson run in to help with a silent and still Bucky.

Tony moved onto Loki's cell, doing the same thing, but he was the one the stepped inside, slow and cautious in his steps. Subtly, Tony leaned around the silent trickster god and looked at what Phil was doing with Bucky, noting that the man was taking the ex-assassin's hand and speaking softly, before easing him up to his feet. He looked back at Tony, eyes locking and the genius nodded. They needed to hurry. They needed to leave. Now.

"Loki." Tony started, trying to gain the trickster's attention, "Loki, it's me, Tony Stark. Iron Man..." he tagged on at the end with an awkward wince, Tony was sure that he was the last person that Loki wanted to be saved by, but beggars can't be choosers. "We're going to get you out of here, okay? Then we're going to get those things off your wrists and cut those strings." he nodded, his reassuring smile was shaky as he did so. He avoided looking at the stitches that held his mouth together, not sure if he would be able to stomach the sight up close. Did Thor do this to Loki? Because if he did, this was just sick. Beyond sick. This was just pure evil...

In response, Loki did nothing, giving no indication that he had heard Tony or anything at all. He was an empty shell and Tony felt his chest constrict painfully around his arc reactor at the thought of Loki being stuck like this forever. No one should have to suffer this much... Not even a once-enemy like Loki...

With calloused hands, Tony gently took Loki's pale, fragile hands, and slowly lifted him up, making him feel paranoid that even the slightest of movements could set the man off. And it could well have, Tony had no idea what would set off the god and now wasn't the most convenient of times to find out.

Soft and gentle wasn't really Tony's way of escaping though; he was more for blowing the living day lights out of his enemies and coming out relatively unscathed. Unfortunately for him, the Avengers of this universe would probably counteract the explosion before it even happened, they were too smart and crazy - and, unlike Tony's other enemies, the dark Avengers scared him to the very depths of his soul... This time, Tony would begrudgingly admit, slow and steady wins the race for freedom. And so he stood patiently, eyes trained on the god for any sudden movements that would indicate that Loki was aware of anything.

Loki moved like a doll, reacting to Tony with little prompting, standing easily and walking to the open doorway, eyes still as blank as ever, movements robotic and stiff. Again, Tony felt a chilling crawl along his skin at the thought of what the hell the team had done to the fiery god to make him seem so docile and dead.

They got closer to the door and from the corner of his eye, Tony could see Coulson stepping out of the prison cell with a blank-eyed Bucky Barnes, being as careful in his touches and movements as Tony was being with Loki. As Tony got to the open door with his charge in hand, Tony felt hid heart swell and a smile grow, they were getting out, they all were and with every step he took, Tony's faith in the escape grew. That was until Tony got within a centimetre of stepping out of the damn, rotten cage, a loud buzz close by make him freeze in the spot, his skin going pale and clammy in the space of a few seconds in his utterly pure panic.

The five inch thick door that Tony had only been able to open from the outside slammed shut faster than the eye could blink with a low hiss of air and a loud clunk of it sealing back into place, trapping Tony and Loki within the glass walls of the prison, with no way out.

Looking around in a panic, Tony saw Loki's wrist cuffs flash red before the god of Mischief's dim green eyes started to flutter shut, his dead body weight increasing by the second, making Tony grunt in his efforts. Loki wasn't that heavy, being more skin and bones through his lack of movement than his lack of food, but Tony wasn't as strong as he used to be and so it made lifting the god all the more difficult. After all, he was still recovering from his latest dose of 'punishment' as well as diminishing muscles from his lack of work or training.

Soon, Loki was totally weightless and Tony could only carefully set the man down, making sure that he was still breathing, before he was turning his wide scared eyes to Coulson, who was standing outside with Bucky beside him, luckily having got out of their cage before it sealed them in as well. As they stared at one another, Tony could see the expression in the Agent's eyes - regret, sorrow, pity - and Tony knew what the Agent was going to do, what the Agent had to do. With the loud alarms and the flashing chaos about the room, Tony watched the Agent and he felt like shouting at the man, felt like pulling at his hair in the utter despair that he felt, felt like falling to his knees and sobbing his heart out. His hope effortlessly crushed in the span of milliseconds. And and much as Tony wanted to beg the Agent not to leave him behind, terrified of the new lengths of punishments Rogers and the team would think up for him due to another failed escape attempt, but he didn't. How could he? Phil had risked just as much as Tony in trying to free him of the jagged clutches of the psychotic team. Never looking away from one another's eyes, no words were spoken between them, before Tony nodded his head once, resignation clear in his honey-brown eyes.

Slowly, Tony stepped away from the thick glass, lowering his eyes dejectedly after seeing Phil's returned nod, looking away from the retreating form of his would-have-been saviour that he so desperately wanted to follow after, it was too painful to watch. In a daze, Tony sunk to his knees, beside the unconscious god, his head lowering further until Tony was practically curling in on himself. Silent rivers of tears streamed down his face, hot and quick, the tears washing away the remains of his shattered hope, leaving only misery and terror behind, making him tremble ever so slightly.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, as he had long since gone numb, oblivious to the changes around him or the steady passing of time. It was only him and his blank mind.

However, he blinked in slow surprise when a pair of black boots stepped into his field of vision. His gaze slowly trailing up, his numb feelings crawling back with a vengeance as heart-seizing fear clogged in his chest, making it hard to breath.

When his brown eyes finally met chilling dark blue, Tony could feel his tears come back, streaming down his face with relative ease due to the still wet tear tracks from not long before. His eyes felt raw and Tony could feel exhaustion creeping up on him, making him want to close his eyes and never open them again. God, it would be bliss if he could sleep forever, then no one would be able to ever hurt him and he'd never be afraid of anyone ever again...

But as he looked at the disappointment clear on the dark Captain's face, Tony knew that he would never be able to sleep forever. These people wouldn't let him...

"Oh, Tony..."


	5. You can't die...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter guys! Sorry it took so long, this was actually finished in July but I was so busy and had forgotten about it until now!  
> Warning: there is slight non-con in here and Tony abuse (like in every chapter). It’s mild at best…

"Tony, Tony, Tony." Rogers tusked in mock disapproval, as he lead Tony down the hall, his hands a white-knuckled grip in the brunette's short hair, ignoring the genius' cries of pain and yells of protest. Rogers continued undeterred, striding to the living room, the sharp echoes of his shoed feet adding effect to the vicious acts that he was about to commit, Tony's yells and stumbling footsteps behind him adding to Rogers' sadistic pleasure.

The rest of the team followed behind (Clint and Natasha suspiciously missing from the crowd) keeping pace a few steps behind a stumbling Tony, faces straight and unsympathetic to Tony's obvious pain. In their eyes, Tony would get what was coming to him, he would pay for resisting them, would suffer the consequences of trying to leave them.

As they stepped into the living room, the soft lighting seeming to cast twisted, festering, and foreboding shadows in all corners of the large room, seeming to respond to Rogers' ire. Seamlessly, Rogers threw Tony into the plush cushions of the sofa and the smaller was unable to suppress a shudder as a chill settled in his spine. Looking up at the furious glinting eyes - dark, so dark with fury it was like staring into the darkest depths of the ocean in stormy weather - the usually immaculately swept back hair was splayed across his forehead in a few strands of blond, his jaw clenching and unclenching and his knuckles were still white, looking to be a few moments away from punching through a random wall, or a person. Dear God, Tony really wished that Rogers wasn't about to beat another person to death.

Subtly, Steve gestured his head, Tony barely noticed it, before two pairs of hands were on him, each holding down and pressing them painfully to the back of the sofa. Tony growled and grunted in pain, his frustration and anger growing to new levels when he felt the familiar biting metal that pinched the scarred skin around his wrists, more clasping around his elbows.

"God! S-Stop!" Tony managed to shout out, kicking his legs out uselessly, unable to kick anyone even remotely close to him. He was about to say more, when his head was forced back, hitting the back of the sofa with a painful thump that rattled his brain, the large warm hand over his forehead proving to be impossible to fight against as another pair of hands buckled the horribly familiar leather collar around his throat a bit more tighter than necessary, making it so that Tony couldn't move forward or thrash at all.

"You bastards!" Tony hissed as he felt hard hands seize his flailing legs in bruising grips, pinning them harshly to the chair, making him completely vulnerable and immobile.

Suddenly, the hands moved away and Rogers' face was mere centimetres from his own, making his muscles tense and his breath freeze in his lungs. He could feel the dark Captain's unnatural body heat from where he was pinned. He was too close. Much too close for Tony's liking.

For a moment, Tony barely dared to breath and he couldn't stop the minute widening of his eyes when he felt the Dark Captain hold a knife to his chest. The chilling blade rested teasingly near the hollow of his throat, making Tony try to lean back, but with every millimetre of movement the knife followed and the Captain's eyes were never more darker than they were in that moment. For a second, Tony could see all of Rogers' emotions in his too dark eyes: the rage, the sadness, the betrayal, and confusion. But one little glint told Tony that he never, never should have caved under Director Douche-bag’s - Nick Fury’s - demands on helping Richard with his half-assed project, making his chest fill with regret and fear as he looked into the eyes of a man that went out of his mind a long time ago, insanity glinting like sapphire stones.

"I could just slit your throat right now..." Rogers breathed almost lustfully, staring intently at Tony's neck, before he added the slightest bit of pressure and watched intently as a bead of life-blood shyly surfaced. He cupped his other hand around Tony's neck, his thumb sliding over the genius's Adam's-apple, as he leaned ever closer, brining his eyes up to penetrate into warm brown, "I've killed other's for less. I've killed children to discipline their parents, slaughtered men for getting my coffee wrong, obliterated families because I damn well felt like it, and tortured and killed the greatest world leaders for letting you die for them..."

"Why don't you just kill me then." Tony hissed through gritted teeth as he leaned forward slightly, the tight collar around his neck preventing him from moving further, ignoring the pain that came from leaning into the knife and the wrong feeling of his blood sluggishly rolling down his collar bone and under his shirt. If he couldn't escape these people, escape from this hell hole, he would gladly die than have to go through another of their 'methods of persuasion' that these crazy people had come up with.

For a moment, everything was still, everything around them melted away, leaving only Rogers and Tony to bear witness to the world around them. Then it was shattered by the wrong sound of the taller man’s laughter, the deep, cheery chuckle that reminded Tony too much of his own Steve that, if not for the gothic clothing, he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. The man laughed, literally, in his face, but Tony fought to keep his narrow-eyed expression, giving everyone a mask of cool determinedness instead of the shattering longing and desperate want to return to his own dimension. Just when the laugh was about to reach the point of it going on for too long to be considered normal, he stopped and stared at Tony with amusement glinting along with the insane look in his dark blue eyes. But the amusement was cold and vicious, his show of teeth in his wide smile seeming more like the bearing of dagger-like fangs than human, his body language was hunched over Tony's vulnerable form, looming over him like a predator would to a downed prey, already ripe for the taking.

"You will never have the honour of dying by my hand and as long as I say so, you will not die by anyone's hand. Don't you understand yet, Tony," Rogers whispered, his hot breath blowing into his ear in a mockery of a lover's affection, "I own your thoughts, I own your actions, I own the breath that you take into your lungs, and I own the blood that runs through your body. You will never escape this, Tony; not by running away, nor by death at yours or anyone else's hand. _You_ belong to _me_..."

A shudder made its way up Tony's back, making him feel like a ghost had walked through him, and before he could really stop himself, Tony felt panic settle firmly into his mind. The fear that had been eating up at him since he first arrived in this dystopian world, so twisted and wrong that it made Tony want to puke just by being there. He hated this world. He hated this team. And, most of all, he hated Rogers.

So, without much thought, other than overwhelming panic and rage, Tony reared his head back before he spat in Rogers' face. For a second, Tony felt a moment of pride warm his chest as he saw that his glob of spit had gotten the dick of a Captain right in the eye, and across his nose and cheek (man, he was a good aim!). But all too soon, his moment of irrational action caught up with Tony and while dawning fear and horror was upon him, nothing could get him to look away from the evil Captain as he sported a thunderous look on his face that promised more pain than he would be able to handle.

Slowly, and purposefully, Rogers lifted up his hands and wiped away the spit with his fingers, cleaning up the mess with a calm exterior, before he wiped his hand on the sofa next to Tony's leg. The large hand accidently grazed the side of his thigh and Tony couldn't help but believe that the touch was on purpose. Then Rogers continued to loom over Tony, his expression blank but his roaring eyes promising violence and pain upon him - a promise that would make him regret the crime he had just committed... Tony really couldn't see himself getting out of this one.

"You're going to regret that." was all Tony heard before a blinding pain emitted from the left side of his face, smacking his head roughly to the side, but as his head whipped to the side, he suddenly felt like he was chocking, the too tight collar pressing on his airways. Before he could even begin to recover, another fist that felt like steel came round the other way, smacking his head to the opposite side. His brain rattled painfully at the rough treatment, but Tony couldn't even get another word out before more pain exploded from his face.

This went on for an uncertain amount of time, the only thing Tony being really conscious about was the pain that was brought on from supernatural levels of strength, making each hit about five times worse than what it would be if he was normal. The Captain stopped targeting his face when Tony felt like his jaw was on the verge of dislocating, and his neck was bruised and bleeding from the harsh movements of his head around the unforgiving leather of the collar, but then he moved on to his torso.

Each hit was like an extra crack to his already bruised ribs, one or two actually breaking from the force of it. By the time Rogers was finished, he had splatters of blood over his fists and was breathing heavily from his anger. Thor stood to the side, face expressionless as he looked upon the sight of his two bloodied team mates; Banner was no longer in the room. For a moment, there was only silence before Tony turned his head to the side and spat out some blood, ignoring the fact that most of the spit-out blood landed on his arm or chest instead of the plush sofa like he had intended it. He didn’t know what hurt worse, his neck and face or his ribs and lungs - arc reactor still heavy in his chest. Tony could only be grateful that Rogers didn’t accidentally hit in the centre of his chest, with that kind of force, he could have caused the reactor to crush his heart and lungs entirely…

Baring his blood stained teeth like a cornered animal, Tony ginned widely, showing the twisted asshole that he had no regrets in his actions.

"I don't belong to anyone," Tony started off, his voice strained from the pain in his chest, "I'm gonna get out of here one way or another. Either I find a way to escape and create my own way home, or my team and friends back in my own universe will find a way to come and get me. Where they lack in savagery, like you, we make up for it in friends and allies. It's inevitable, and I can't wait to blast a hole through your stupid face when they finally do."

Rogers grinned back manically, his eyes seeming to take on a more crazed quality at hearing Tony's words. They wont take away his Tony again. Never! Not if he had any say about it! "I've killed all of your little friends before, Tony, I don't mind doing it again." he chuckled like he was remembering a good time drinking with friends on the street than reminiscing about killing past victims. It made Tony feel disgusted at the sight...

At that small taunt, Tony couldn’t help but picture Happy, laying on the floor, twisted and broken, expressive brown eyes unseeing. He saw Rhodey, still in his war machine suit, the armour half ripped off with the centre piece missing, blood running out of the hole like a waterfall. Then he saw Pepper, fiery, brave, pepper-spraying Pepper, dead and alone in a random hallway. Her bright orange hair painted a dark rusty red from her own blood, bright blue eyes dim with lifelessness, her normally immaculate dress-suit dishevelled, ripped and soaking with blood…

They didn’t deserve that, not in his world and not in this one either.

Blood boiled deeply in his veins as he looked at the evil bastard with cold brown eyes narrowed and hate rising in his chest; never had Tony hated someone as much as he hated Rogers, right now. That smug expression on his lips, that holier-than-thou body language, the patronising speech, those too dark blue eyes that made Tony hate him all the more. And with this hatred pumping in his blood and filling his very core, Tony leaned forward as far as he could with the restraints and hissed with poisonous words, "When I get out of here, I'm going to enjoy killing you as slowly and painfully as you've killed my friends in this world. And when I'm done, I'm going to laugh. I can promise you that."

By this point, the room had gone deathly silent as Rogers stared into Tony's eyes, seeing the truth and rage swirling around in those dark orbs, the smeared blood on his face making Tony look just as dangerous and savage as the words he'd spat in the Captain's face.

Without much warning, Rogers fist sudden gripped his hair painfully tight, before he slammed it down on the hard back of the sofa, knocking Tony out immediately...

* * *

 

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

The throbbing in his head and all over his body got louder and louder in his ears until Tony was turning his face away in vain to hide from the offending noise that felt like it was trying to storm through his eardrums and damage his brain even more. It felt like someone had put a bucket over his head and was using a sledgehammer to tap out to a jam.

_Bang. BangBang._

Opening his eyes to get rid of the muffled noise was a mistake.

Immediately, he was assaulted by too bright lights that made his eyes water even when he shut them safely behind dark eyelids. Then he moved his head back and shifted in his seat, unable to contain a groan of anguish as a vicious spike of pain flashed over his whole body, making his frayed nerve-endings come to life. What the hell happened?

_Bang… Bang. Bang. Bang._

Blurry eyes opened cautiously, the pain of the whiteness of the room and lights diminishing as he begrudgingly got used to them. For a moment, his mind felt blank, sluggish in thought and movement as the pain continued to throb in his head, though it had ebbed slightly in the time he had tried to wake himself up. He couldn't remember where he was, why he was hurt and in pain, or what that drumming was, because he knew now for certain that the repetitive noise was not his head... What he did know, was that he probably, most definitely, had a concussion. God, Steve was going to be so mad that Tony would have to skip out on training again...

_Bang. Bang… Bang!_

He went to rub the palms of his hands over his face, but his expression quickly changed from one of suffering to one of confusion when something stopped him. Looking down, his mind went blank once again as he stared down at the large cuffs that practically engulfed his forearms; he couldn't move his legs either so they were probably in the same situation as his arms.

_Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Then, he looked up, squinting through the light, until his eyes came to rest on the form of one Phil Coulson. Though his suit was gone, replaced by a plain white shirt and white trousers, looking like he was a runaway hospital patient, and he looked a little worse for wear. A large bruise covered by the majority of his left cheek, he had a small cut on his eyebrow and a slit lip. But worse off were his eyes. The usual cool blue, full of calm waters, were wide with panic and flashing with overwhelming regret, fists punching the thick impenetrable glass and leaving behind smudges of blood from his slit knuckles.

"Tony!" came the muffled yell from within the cell that Agent had been trapped in.

Then, Tony's eyes slid down to the Agent's arm, seeing a tight band of metal that seemed to be infused around the Agent's bicep, peeking through the rough bandages that were still collecting blood. Then he looked down at his own arm that held the exact same metal band and everything came flooding back… All sluggish thought was suddenly kicked into hyper-gear as Tony's half-lidded eyes shot open wide, before he tried to struggle and thrash in his seat, the metal not giving way.

"Shit. Shit. Shit!" he hissed as he struggled and twisted his body to no avail. Then he looked to the trapped ex-SHIELD Agent and said with a desperate lilt to his voice, "Phil, you were supposed to get out of here!"

The man lowered his head slightly in regret and defeat, answering back with a barely audible, "Barton and Romanoff.” from behind the thick glass.

But as Tony caught those two blasted names, he quickly understood what had happened and the injuries to the other man made a lot more sense.

Shaking off his thoughts, Tony stated, in a voice that was more confident than he felt, "Don't worry. We'll get out of here. My team will come and I know they'll free everyone along the way-"

A dark chuckle interrupted Tony's speech of reassurance, making his breath catch in his throat as a chill ran down his spine like he’d just been doused in a bucket of iced-water. He knew that laugh all too well. And he hated it more than he hated bad science...

With lazy movements, the awful Steve Rogers of this world came into view, circling in front of him before he came to a stop, leering down at the trapped and immobile genius, a spark of something inhuman in his dark blue eyes. The dark Captain wasn't wearing his usual darkly coloured tight shirt and jeans, but his battle gear, the tight black of his less than standard suit like an insult to everything that Tony had ever created. But, as much as he hated the crappy protection gear, he hated Rogers even more.

Glaring heatedly at the broad-shouldered man, Tony set his lips into a grim line, his silence in the face of the man speaking louder of his feelings towards him than any descriptive death threat ever could. His silence seemed to irritate the Captain, his twisted smile on his lips turning into a jaw-clenching frown as he toward predatorily over the smaller man. He made one last circle around Tony before he finally came to a stop, arms folded behind his back in a mockery of a gentleman's pose, chilling blue eyes alight with something that Tony couldn't quite put his finger on...

"I guess you were right about one thing," the man started in a soft voice, tone gentle in a way that made Tony tense and crinkle his brow in slight confusion, "Your team did come here to save you. I don't know why I doubted that they would, after all, we tore the whole world apart when you left us. They're here to take you home," relief and hope warmed Tony's chest, the emotions so overwhelming that it felt like a dam had broken and tons of water had crashed over him before he even had the chance to fix the damage. Emotions like that were powerful and crushing in times of captivity, it can drive you forward, or it can completely and utterly ruin you - he would know. Relief flooded the features of his face before he could hide them from the ruthless Captain. Tony knew it was too late to drive the emotions under control again when Rogers swiftly crouched down, making it so they were eye level. Harsh fingers gripped his chin, bruising the flesh on his jaw in an aching and lasting way, as he forced Tony face forward so that they were inches apart. Breathing harshly through his nose, Tony held the blue gaze with his own warm brown, not daring to pull away in case the Captain hurt him even more. Rogers leaned closer, his breath tickling the skin of Tony's neck as the black clad man leaned in ever closer, each inch agonisingly slow, before he whispered tauntingly in Tony's ear, "But they're never going to get the chance."

Then he leaned back, hard digits still hurting Tony's jaw. Glaring fiercely, Tony's opened his mouth to reply, despite his better judgment, when the twisted man surged forward, crashing their lips together. Pose rigid with shock, Tony could only stare wide eyed as the man that wore his friend's face kissed him, never breaking eye contact as the imposing super soldier penetrated his soul, completely wrecking it in a way that Tony never thought anyone could do before. Then there was a tongue in his mouth, invading and possessive in its claim - that was when Tony snapped out of his shock.

"MMM!" he tried to yell in alarm, attempting to pull back, crying out in pain when the soldier tightened his grip.

Rogers forced their kiss deeper, teeth clicking together as Rogers used his other hand to tangle with the thick brown locks of his hair in an unforgivable grip, forcing his head back so harshly that Tony felt something in his neck being popping. The vice-like grip on his jaw loosened, the fingers trailing down his neck to caress his shoulder and chest in a mockery of a lover’s gentle touch. Tony felt like someone had gripped his lungs and squeezed them viciously when he felt the Dark Captain's knee nestle into the space between his open thighs, pressure slowly increasing.

 _No. No. No. No. nonononono. NO! This can’t be happening! Stop it! Get off!_ Tony wanted to scream, but had to settle for the next best thing as he screamed a mix string of curses and denials in his mind, the loud exclamations banging wildly against his mental walls. He didn't even realise he was thrashing against his restraints until he felt the sickening feel of his own blood rolling down his wrists from where the delicate flesh had been cut by the cold unrelenting metal.

Shaking his head, Tony cried out in pain into Rogers mouth as the dark Captain viciously twisted the strands of his hair.

Disgust had Tony feeling the burn of bile rising in the back of his throat as he felt the invading tongue lapping at his gums. So much so that Tony clamped down, revelling in Rogers' muffled cry of pain.

Immediately, the Captain attempted to draw back, but was prevented as Tony clenched his jaw even more, not easing up until Tony could feel the flood of coppery blood wash over his taste buds. When the dark Captain finally pulled out of his mouth, face like thunder, Tony threw his head forward as hard as he could, ignoring the slight pain that came with the violent contact. With a joyous gleam in his eyes, Tony watched as Rogers stumbled back, hands clutching his nose. Tony knew he didn't break it, he didn't have enough momentum and he didn't hear a crack, but he could see the small trail of blood from the small amount of damage that he'd caused.

As Rogers looked up, eyes promising a painful death upon anyone within his near vicinity, Tony smirked, copying Rogers smirk to throw back in his face, before he made a show of leaning forward and spitting out a mouthful of blood that they both knew was the Captain's.

Tony didn't even get the chance begin to regret his actions as pain exploded across his cheek, the force sending his head to the side and to smash into the high backed hair, rattling his brain. Feeling dizzy, Tony could only blink up at the Captain, before he came to, baring his teeth at the cruel man and wincing slightly at the blossoming pain in his cheek.

"Did you just bitch slap me?" Tony asked incredulously, eyes narrowed in a hatful glare.

"It didn't have to be this way, Tony." Rogers ignored his comment, which Tony couldn't really summon the energy to care about at this moment, fear once again clutching his heart in its icy, clawed grip, "We could have been happy. You could have been happy. I would have made you a king, a man that's waited on hand and foot, respected and feared. The most protected man in the universe with all of us by your side. But no, you just had to hold on to your old team too tight." he finished off bitterly, eyes filled with something, a dark, unspeakable intent that had Tony shuddering in fear.

"If my team is here, then it's too late. They'll find me and kill all of you to save this world. You might as well make it more easy on yourself and let me go. You've already lost." Tony stated through gritted teeth, succeeding in keeping the trembling fear from his voice.

A cruel laugh reverberated around the room, filling the very air until it was nearly all consuming...

"Lost?” Rogers chuckled, before he let his thumb trail down and rub over Tony's cheekbone, electing the genius to flinch and turn his head away from the offensive appendage. "We never loose, Tones. You only loose when you admit defeat and we all know that none of us are going to do that. What we are willing to do is go to drastic lengths to make something ours. By any force necessary." he stated. Though his last words sounded off to Tony, made fear fill up in his chest. It sounded like an apology.

When Tony opened his mouth to sneer something else at Rogers, he suddenly found something being forced into his mouth. It only took him a second to register that it was a mouth guard. Then the chair began to move, forcing him into an uncomfortably stretched standing position, feet inches from the floor.

Feeling the bordering-on-painful strain in his limbs, Tony groaned as he tried to dislodge the mouth guard with his tongue. But just as he was about to be rid of the damned thing, Rogers sealed his hand over his mouth, forcing the gag back in.

"I'm sorry, Tones. Really I am," Rogers started, breath slightly short-winded as he spoke, making him sound even more crazy, then his eyes turned hard and unyielding, "But if we can't have you, then neither can they."

And with that parting remark, Rogers left his field of vision and Tony knew what was coming next, his eyes widen and his heart fluttered like a dying bird trying to escape the fox's jaws one last time.

Desperately, Tony looked to Phil, who had witnessed the whole thing. The look on the Agent's face sealed the deal for Tony; that look of utter defeat, utter despair and regret, eyes full of apology and remorse for what they other would have to go through. The look was heart-breaking and Tony knew that he'd run out of tunes to play. This was it...

Just as Rogers turned the dial, setting the voltage low due to the fact Tony was a normal human and wouldn't survive a powerful shock as Bucky without sustaining a massive amount of brain damage. Tony looked Phil in the eyes and gave one last nod. That nod told the Agent many things, a farewell, an acknowledgement that it was alright... Forgiveness.

Then, the next second, Tony's world was alight in pain, electricity making his muscles spasm and his throat raw from constant screaming of pain. It seemed to last a lifetime before the blessed darkness enveloped him like a warm, comforting blanket, drawing him away from a world of pain and suffering.

* * *

 

"Widow, watch out!" Steve shouted, blood disturbing his field of vision as it trailed down from the wound on his forehead and into his eye. He saw that she dodged the attack, putting her opponent into a headlock until they stopped moving, using his body as a shield as she swung her flexible body around and kicked two others in the face.

It was damn weird here. This world was mental, thrown into disarray and chaos through the decisions of a few. It scared Steve that he could have gone this way. This mental and deranged. All it would have taken was a little more force to his head when he crashed the plane in the Arctic and froze.

It had taken them almost three months to finally find Tony and a week to stabilise the machine so that they could all enter and return safely after. Richards looked quite tired after they'd been busting his balls for all that time, seeming relieved to finally be rid of them soon. Only a select few could actually go through the portal, which had caused a small uproar, but in the end, they had settled for the most practical fighters: Steve, Thor, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, and Bucky. Rhodey was not at all impressed about being left behind, but he hadn't had that much experience in fighting as a team with the rest of them and so could be liable to injury or injuring another when taking aim or leaving someone open.

Upon first looking at the new world they were in, it looked normal (if a bit more cleaner than their own), but they soon discovered that it was anything but. People screamed and ran in complete and utter terror at the mere sight of them and those that they were in contact with or allied with before had turned out to be evil, or killed by the Avengers of this world. There was no Nick Fury, or SHIELD, or Pepper, or Rhodey, or even a Fantastic Four team. It was all distorted and dream-like, Steve unable to even comprehend what they had all become...

Now, after days of searching and hours of bloody fighting, they had defeated the others, knocked unconscious, slowly bleeding out or dead. The alternate Avengers hadn't stopped fighting until they were in a sate to not move anymore, moving and fighting like the thing they wanted to do most in the world was kill them in the most gruesome way possible. It was horrifying to see his own dead body, but it had to be done. They just wouldn't go down any other way.

By the time they had killed the whole of the evil Avengers, Clint had nearly died by his own counter part's hand and Bruce was nearly electrocuted to death by the counterpart of Thor. It was indescribably scary to see their mirror images, eyes crazed and deranged - absolutely deadly in their frayed mental status... Now, bloodied, hurt and more than a little mentally scarred, the team watched as the rest of the goons fled for their lives as soon as the last dark avenger had fallen, looking more than a little relieved. One had even breathed out a weak and shaky 'thank you' before they turned tail and fled. That act spoke volumes of how bad this universe had turned out to be...

"Guys," Bruce called from a computer, "I know where Tony is." he gestured for them to follow, speeding down the hallway and turning this way and that down the vaguely familiar corridors. The mere framing of the building feeling corrupt and oozing evil intentions as it hid disgusting and dastardly thing behind innocent white walls.

Raising his eyebrows, Clint couldn't help but incredulously ask, "That fast?" as he kept pace with the others, casually wiping the blood from the side of his face.

"It seems like when their Tony died, no one else was smart enough to uphold the coding and such when it when wrong... I don't think JARVIS is here anymore either..." he trailed off sadly, knowing that the death of JARVIS in this world would have broken their Tony’s heart. They all knew that the AI was like a son to him, no matter how hard he tried to hide it or cover it up - all of his creations were like a family member he never had.

The others didn't say anything. Forcing their minds away from the subject as they skidded to a halt outside a thick metal door, watching impatiently as Bruce easily worked around it, pulling the right wires until the latch gave way and Steve and Bucky made a joint effort in pulling the two ton doors apart.

Upon walking inside, the whole team stopped and stared in no small degree of horror. Steve and Clint turned a deathly pale, while Bruce went a little green around the gills, eyes glinting green in rising anger before he took a breath. The others visibly made an effort to not react, wiping their faces of any and all emotion, but Steve could all see by the emotions of their eyes that they were all in various degrees of horror and fear for their friend.

Stepping carefully into the quiet room, the atmosphere heavy with tension and suspense that no one wanted to break. In the room was four bright containers, rounded with thick glass, all holding one person each.

Thor could barely keep his tears at bay when his eyes landed on his brother. While he knew that they this Loki was not his own, it still horrified him to no end at the fate which had befallen him. Never in Thor's darkest nightmares had he ever imagined this for his younger brother... Bright green eyes, once full of life and mischief, was now void of all life and awareness. But even worse than that, black thread wove into the skin of pale, scarred lips, past rips of skin from when Loki had inevitably attempted to talk.

A hollow husk. That was all that Thor could describe him as.

"Loki-" Thor choked, hand outstretched, as if to beckon Loki out of his comatose state and just give a tiny indication that he was still aware. That he was still Loki.

"Oh my God..." Steve breathed as he walked up to the cage that encased his oldest friend. Bucky stepped up beside him, a comforting hand on Steve's shoulder as he kept his face stoic, but it was obvious that he was just as disturbed by seeing his mirror self.

However, like Loki, the alternate Bucky didn't react, hollow and cold as he stared off into the distance, unseeing. It was obvious what had happened...

How monstrous can someone be to rescue a thought-dead-friend from HYDRA, only to do the same thing...

Steve had to turn away, rushing to the corner before he dropped to his knees, spitting out his disgust.

Next was none other than Phil Coulson, in which Natasha and Clint rushed to, pounding on the surface of the glass to gain his attention.

Unlike the other two, Phil was laying on his bed, faced away, the slow rise and fall of his chest indicating that he was asleep and unaware of their presence. But he soon startled awake, face catching in a horrified state before it morphed into blankness. He looked towards the team in distaste, anger and hatred so pure in his blue eyes as he looked at them, they couldn't help but flinch back.

However, at the move, Phil frowned, confusion evident on his face, before his eyes widened minutely as he spotted the differences of his captors and his rescuers - eyeing the different colours of their uniforms with nostalgia clear in his demeanour. Immediately, he was standing opposite them, a look of regret and shame in his eyes as he looked at every one of them.

"I'm sorry." came his muffled voice from behind the thick glass. Then he turned away, shame lining in every inch of his body, before he sat down, head bowed.

Before the others could start to ask questions, their eyes looked to the container behind Phil's and crippling pain filled their chests...

Familiar brown fluffy hair caught their eyes first, though it was a little longer than last they had seen him, his goatee was as sharp as ever around his chin, his clothes were white, an exact copy of Phil’s clothing - like prison garb. Then there was the differences. The awful differences. He was far too skinny, like they had restricted food from him, making his muscle mass decrease so that he’d be easily overpowered if he were to rebel. By the looks of all the bruises, cuts and bandages that were visible on the skin, he rebelled quite frequently. Steve felt a warmth of pride at that evidence, knowing that his friend fought tooth and nail against them at every chance. There was a line of bruises that marred his neck, that made it obvious that he was strangled. Then there were the strange random dots of bruises that splattered over his collar bones that looked vaguely familiar… Steve recoiled in disgust when he realised that the dotted bruises were hickey’s, making his rage boil in his blood and fists clench, a wish for his counterpart to be alive again just so that he could kill the man - by the looks of the rest of his teammates and Bruce’s quick retreat, they felt the same. A metal band encircled the genius’ bicep like a clamp, one that both Phil and Bucky had. But most agonising of all was that Tony's stare was vacant. Empty. Dead. Like Loki and Bucky's.

It took Steve a moment to realise it but...

Tony was gone...

One by one, each of the Avengers’ felt like their world was shattering and breaking apart around them… Tears and sobs slipped through their stone hard walls that blocked out emotions as they realised that they had lost their friend… Their dear friend that had come through for them again and again and yet…

They were too late.

They had failed him.

And while Steve dropped to his knees in utter devastation, Tony looked on at the wall. Golden brown eyes that were once alight with genius and creativity was dull and empty, like a marvellous structure that had given way to fire and now all that was left was the distant blowing off ash in the wind... And just like the objects and irreplaceable possessions lost to the fire, Tony was lost to them as well.

Tony was gone.

And he was never coming back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was it!  
> Thanks for reading, sorry for crushing all your hopes and dreams with the ending!  
> Bye!


End file.
